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T. S. DEMSON a COMPANY, Publishers, 163 Randolph St.. Ghicado. 



THE TOWN MARSHAL 



A COMEDY DRAMA OF THE 
RURAL NORTHWEST 



BY 

CHARLES ULRICH 

AUTHOR OF 

''The Altar of Riches,'' ''A Daughter of the Desert,'' ''The Deserter" 

' ' The Hebrew, " " The High School Freshman ," " The Honor 

of a Cowboy," " In Plutn Valley," "The Man frotn 

Nevada," "On the Little Big Horn," 

' ' The Tramp and the Actress,' ' Etc. 




CHICAGO 

T. S. Denison & Company, Publishers 

163 Randolph Street 



THE TOWN MARSHAL 

CHARACTERS. ^'^T^ 

Harold Desmond The Town Marshal 

Mark Jamieson A Lawyer of Evil Tendencies 

Uncle Jeb Jenkins A South Dakota Farmer 

Willis Hartley A Wealthy Grain Dealer 

William Torrence A Man With a Past 

Ikey Levinsky A Jewish Peddler 

Laura Hartley.- A Village Belle 

Mary Ann Hartley A Spinster 

Lucy Ames A Village Hoyden 



Scene — South Dakota. 



Time — The Present. 



Time of Playing — About Two Hours and Fifteen Minutes. 



Act I — Exterior of Willis Hartley's Home. 
Act H — Desmond's Apartment, two weeks later. 
Act hi — The Dugout in Pine Valley, the next day. 
Act IV — Same as Act I, four weeks later. 



Notice. — Production of this pla.^ is free to amateurs, but the sole 
professional rights are reservecl hyl the author, who may be addressed 
in care of the Publishers. - S" ' 



COPYRIGHT^ 1910, BY T. S. DENISON & COMPANY. 

2 



©C1.D 21872 



THE TOWN MARSHAL. 



SYNOPSIS FOR PROGRAM. 

Act I — Lucy persecuted. Jenkins tells Mary Ann of his 
troubles. A wronged man in the clutches of a scoundrel. 
Levinsky hears a joke which gets him into trouble. Laura 
defends Lucy. Hartley's safe rifled and important docu- 
ments stolen. "You are a brave man, Mr. Desmond." The 
plot. Jamieson springs his mine. "He bears an assumed 
name!" Desmond at bay. 'T am a man of honor. Fare- 
well!" 

Act H. Levinsky confides a secret to Jenkins. *T am a 
Jew und I never buys hogs on a Saturday." Lucy fetches 
letter to Desmond. The quarrel. "This is my answer !" The 
story of a wronged man. "My father is innocent, though 
a convict." Jenkins courts Mary Ann. Desmond goes to 
discharge his duty. "I shall stand before you tomorrow 
without shame or I shall have ceased to live !" 

Act hi — Jenkins and Levinsky alone in the dugout. Jenk- 
ins explains the meaning of the word "gizzard." Torrance 
a fugitive. Desmond recognizes his father. The story. 
''Arrest me, my son, it is your duty !" "I shall do my duty 
and free you!" The escape. "I alone am guilty!" A 
woman's sorrow. "My heart is breaking !" 

Act IV. Jamieson threatens Laura. "I despise you !" 
The threat. Jenkins pulls Jamieson's nose. Mary Ann's 
wedding lingerie exposed. "A new sassiety cuss word." 
Desmond returns, Laura sees light at last. "He assumed 
his father's guilt to save him !" Jamieson unmasked. "My 
faith in you will endure forever !" The betrothal. 



THE TOWN MARSHAL. 



STORY OF THE PLAY. 

The scene of The Town Marshal is located in a South 
Dakota village where Harold Desmond holds the oihce of 
Town Marshal. Some years previous to the opening scene, 
his father had been convicted of a crime committed by an- 
other and on his release had assumed the name of Torrance 
and gone to South Dakota in search of his son, Desmond. 
Torrance falls into the clutches of Jamieson, a disreputable 
attorney who uses him as a tool to secure possession of valu- 
able land owned by Willis Hartley, a grain broker and with 
whose daughter, Laura, Desmond has fallen in love. Jamie- 
son, with the assistance of Torrance and Hartley's clerk, 
Clancy, steals valuable documents from Hartley's safe and 
armed with these, Torrance, under the name of Bothman, 
aids Jamieson in his plan to secure possession of the land for 
a syndicate, by which the lawyer hopes to enjoy huge finan- 
cial profits. 

Desmond goes in pursuit of the robbers and Jamieson, de- 
siring to weaken his influence with Laura Hartley, charges 
that Desmond bears an assumed name. Desmond admits the 
impeachment and tells the story of his father's disgrace. 
Laura's faith in him remains unshaken and Jamieson forces 
Desmond to go in pursuit of Torrance, conscious of the fact 
of which Desmond is ignorant, that Torrance is the Town 
Marshal's father. Desmond meets Torrance in a dugout and 
on recognizing him, forces his father to escape in his son's 
coat and wearing his hat. When the others confront him 
and demand an explanation, Desmond assumes his father's 
guilt in the noble desire to save him from punishment, 
thereby risking the loss of Laura's love. 

After this avowal Desmond disappears for a month, dur- 
ing which time he gathers proofs of his father's innocence of 



THE TOWN MARSHAL. 



crime and Jamieson's criminality. Jamieson is exposed and 
Desmond's honor clearly established. The troubles of the 
sweethearts are adjusted and happiness ensues. 



CHARACTERS AND COSTUMES. 

Desmond — Young man of about twenty-five, handsome 
and dashing in appearance. He wears dark sack coat, light 
trousers, white shirt, belted at the waist and broad-brimmed 
white hat in first three acts. In last act he wears brown street 
suit with Derby hat. 

Jamieson — Man of forty years, slightly gray over temples. 
May wear a moustache. His manner is rough, yet insinu- 
ating and at times is domineering. He wears an ordinary 
street suit throughout the action and presents a natty ap- 
pearance. 

Jenkins — A regulation farmer with a down east accent. 
He is sixty years old, lively and gay at all times. He wears 
an ordinary homespun suit in first act, ,with rough looking 
hat and in act H he wears a long coat and sports a red ban- 
dana handkerchief. In third and last acts he wears light 
suit with collar and long flowing tie. 

Hartley — A quiet, unassuming man of fifty-five, always 
well attired in business suit of light gray material, with 
broad-brimmed hat, white or black, as may be deemed wise. 

Torrance — A well appearing man of sixty, gray wig 
and beard. He is well educated and shows excellent man- 
ners. He wears an ordinary business suit of dark material 
with soft hat, white shirt, collar and flowing tie. 

I KEY — A young Hebrew of twenty-two or thereabouts. 
He wears ill-fitting clothes, with a Derby hat drawn well 
down over his ears. He wears a small moustache. He is 
good natured and inoffensive at all times. 

Laura — A handsome young woman about twenty-two, 
capable of emotion and gayety as the occasion may require. 
She wears a street dress in first act with a stylish hat, the 
same costume may serve in act II and in act III. In the 
last act, she wears a white house gown, but no hat. 



6 THE TOWN MARSHAL. 

Mary Ann — A maiden of sixty years or thereabouts, 
strong-minded and positive. She is somewhat eccentric in 
her attire, but not conspicuously as her prototype in farce 
comedy. 

Lucy — A young girl of fourteen years, lively and gay. 
She wears the ordinary dress of a village girl, with apron, 
and her hair is done up carelessly. She is a soubrette and 
shows signs of little education. 



PROPERTY LIST. 

Act I — Several rustic seats, shrubbery, etc., for garden 
set. Several small packages for Lucy. 

Act II — Sofa, parlor table, with three chairs. Several 
books and papers for table. Letter for Lucy. Revolver for 
Jamieson. 

Act III — Rough table and two chairs for dugout. Screen 
for Levinsky and Jenkins to hide behind. Candle and holder 
for table. Revolver for Torrance. Several bunches of 
vegetables, etc., to hang to roof of dugout. Revolver for 
Ikey. 

AiCT IV — Same props mentioned in Act I. In addition 
provide three sealed documents for Desmond. Letter for 
Levinsky. Several boxes in wrappers containing lingerie. 
Letter for Ikey. Document for Jamieson. 



THE TOWN MARSHAL. 

STAGE SETTINGS. 
Acts I. and IV. 




Rustic Seat 




Act IL 




-^ ../• ■ I J Door n 

^ Window qiriPhnard '-' 

Door bideboard (.-^^-^ 



Table 
Chair Chair 



\ 



Door 




Act hi. 



Door 



Cupboard 



Door 



Table 

D □ D 
Chair Chair 




Note. — A set lioiisc will add to the effect of Act I, yet it is 
not essential and can be omitted. 



STAGE DIRECTIONS. 

R. means right of the stage ; C, center ; R. C, right cen- 
ter ; L., left ; R. D., right door ; L. D., left door, etc. : 1 E., 
first entrance ; U. E., upper entrance, etc. ; D. F., door in 
flat or scene running across the back of the stage ; 1 G., first 
groove, etc. The actor is supposed to be facing the audience. 



THE TOWN MARSHAL 



Act I. 

Scene: Exterior of the Hartley home in South Dakota, 
full stage. Set house runs obliquely R. with veranda, 
reached by two steps, and a practical door opening on ve- 
randa C. Set trees L. and shrubbery upstage. Flat repre- 
sents a grove of trees. Rustic chair well down C. and an- 
other L. 2 E. Scene may be beautified zuith plants and 
flowers. See Scene Plot for stage setting. 

At rise enter Lucy, L. U. E., carrying several bundles. 
She comes dozvn C. with a view of entering house. 

Lucy {stopping C). I don't know why I ever was born 
anyway. I aint got nothin' to do but work, an' I'm gittin' 
most awful tired of it. (Crosses to steps of house R. and 
sits on steps, puffing and blozving.) If that old maid Mary 
Ann Hartley, don't stop sending me to the grocery every 
five minutes, I'll quit my job for keeps. 

Mary (off stage in hoUse R.) Lucy Ames! 

Lucy (starts and rises zvith a grunt). That's her. Sounds 
like the whistle of the old butter factory. (Answers loudly.) 
I'm coming, Aunt Mary. 

Mary (off stage R.). Hurry with those groceries, child. 

Lucy (going to door of house C). That's what I get 
all day — hurry, child! My, but I wonder she didn't hurry 
up and get married. (Loudly). I'm coming. (Stops at 
door of house). I wish I was rich like Mr. Hartley so's 
I wouldn't have to' work. (Exit into house R.) 

Enter Jenkins, R. U. E. He is an old farmer, lively 
and gay. He whistles softly to himself as he comes down C. 

Jenkins (goes to steps of veranda R. and looks into 
house). Be gosh! I wonder ef Mary Ann be about. 



THE TOWN MARSHAL. 9 

'Pears to me like I got a genuine case of softness of the 
heart, whenever I think of her. Guess I ought to know, by 
gravy ! case I hed two attacks of the same complaint afore 
I married Sukey and 'Mandy. {Turns C.) 

Enter from house R., Mary. She comes doivn steps with- 
out seeing him. 

Jenkins (turns and sees Mary, starts). Thar she be, 
the neatest, trimmest filly ever yeou see, by sassafras ! 
(To Mary.) How de, Mary Ann Hartley? 

Mary (surprised, comes C.). Why, good morning, Uncle 
Jeb Jenkins, I'm delighted to see you. 

Jenkins (aside). De-lighted to see me. Guess I made 
an impression, as the widder Brown said when she fell into 
her flow^er patch. (To Mary.) Yeou aint foolin' now, be 
you, Mary Ann ? 

]\Iary (laughingly). Why, certainly not. W' hat have you 
been doing this lovely day ? 

Jenkins. Chasing birds, by gosh ! 

AIary (surprised). Chasing birds! Then you must be 
an ornithologist. 

Jenkins (confused) . Onery ologist, eh? Wall, I reckon 
I be, but I haint had the disease since I wus a yearlin', by 
sassafras ! 

Mary (laughingly). Are all men in South Dakota like 
you, i\Ir. Jenkins? 

Jenkins. Not by a jugful. 'Mandy said there warn't 
another darned galoot like me in the hull country. 

Mary. Who was 'Mandy ? 

Jenkins. Mrs. Jeb Jenkins, No. 2, by chowder ! 

Mary. You don't mean to tell me that you have been 
twice married? 

Jenkins (struts about proudly). I don't look it, Mary 
Ann, but I wus, by ginger! An' I'm willin' to go it double 
ag'in, if so be thar's a female critter in these parts willin' 
to take a chance at the matrimonial grab-bag. 

Mary (laughingly). I sincerely hope you may be able to 
find your affinity, Air. Jenkins. 



10 THE TOWN MARSHAL. 

Jenkins. No, I haint lost any affinity, Mary Ann. Kaint 
find what I haint lost, by gum ! 

Mary (goes to door of house R.). You amuse me very 
much, Mr. Jenkins. I must leave you now, but call again 
and make yourself perfectly at home. (Exit R.) 

Jenkins (at C). Thank 'e, Mary Ann, I'll come, you 
bet! I'm plumb stuck on her, as the blue bottle said when 
he landed on the fly paper. I'm goin' to win that old gal 
and I'll make the widder Brown sick fur turning me down 
t'other night. (Goes upstage and looks L.) Thar's that 
old fellow I see with Lawyer Jamieson down to the co'te 
house today. I kinder like him, but Jamieson, why, if ever 
there be a crook, he's at the top of the list. (Turns R.) 
Guess I'll take that hay to my place and then, by gravy! 
I'll slick up and call on Mary Ann. (Exit R. U. E., zvhist- 
ling. ) 

Enter Torrance L. U. E. He stands and looks off with 
some shozv of emotion and after a pause, comes, slozviy 
down C. 

Torrance (as he looks about). I could have sworn I 
know that man I saw down the road just now. But no, it is 
impossible ! I see phantoms where none exist. By what 
devilish ingenuity did this lawyer, Jamieson, fathom my 
secret? No matter, I am in his power and must do his will 
or suffer exposure and ruin. (Turns up L. and looks off.) 
He comes. Ah, how I despise him! (Saunters down C.) 

Enter Jamieson, L. U. E. He comes down C. jauntily. 

Jamieson (to Torrance). Ah, you are here, Torrance? 
Did you finish that little business I intrusted to you this 
morning. 

Torrance (after a pause) . No. 

Jamieson (starts). Dillydallying, eh? (Sternly.) See 
here, my man, I wont have any delay in this business. 

Torrance. You ask me to — to commit a crime. 

Jamieson (laughingly). A crime? Bah! You don't 
seem, able to distinguish between stupid crime and advanced 
methods of finance. 



THE TOWN MARSHAL. U 

Torrance (nervously). I can't do it, Jamieson. Please 
don't ask it of me. 

Jamieson (/;/ angry whisper). Don't be a fool, Torrance ! 
We are engaged in a big financial deal which, if it does not 
fail through your bungling, will make us both independent 
for life. What matters it if Willis Hartley is the victim? 
He is worth nearly a million and the loss of a few thousands 
will affect him little. 

Torrance. But you ask me to impersonate another man 
and commit a forgery. 

Enter Ikey^ L. U. E. He stands and zvatches them. 

Jamieson. Quite right. There is absolutely no danger of 
detection. 

Torrance (nervously). If I am detected, it means — 
means — (hesitates.) 

Jamieson (laugJiingly). Another term in the peniten- 
tiary, would you say? Well that shouldn't frighten a man 
who like you, has been — 

Torrance (interrupts feverishly). Stop! I must pay 
the price of your silence, for I am in your power. 

Jamieson (slaps Torrance jovially on the shoulder). 
Now you are a man of good judgment again, Torrance. We 
were successful in that aff'air at Hartley's office last night 
and we will win if you do not forget that from now on you 
are James Bothman, of New York. 

Ikey edges his zcay dozen C. silently behind them. 

Torrance. It is an infamous affair, Jamieson. 

Jamieson. Don't let that worry you, Torrance. Now 
that we understand each other — 

Ikey (stepping hetzveen them — to Jamieson). I'm glad 
you understand us togedder, aint it, Jamieson. 

Jamieson (starts). What the deuce are you doing here? 
Eavesdropping ? 

Ikey. You take me for a roof? No, I vant you to pay 
me dat t'rce dollar vat you owe me two year now. \'en you 
pay me? 

Jamieson. You're dreaming again, Ikey. 



12 THE TOWN MARSHAL. 

Ikey. No, it vasn't a dream. I don't dream no more. I 
vonce took a dream in Chicago and some fellow took my 
vatdh. 

Jamieson (takes Torkance^s arm and leads him upstage). 
We'd better get out of here, or Ikey will accuse us of having 
stolen his watch. 

Ikey (following others up C). No, you don't get my 
vatch, 'cause I got it sewed up in my pocket. 

Jamieson (to Torrance). I am sure Hartley is not at 
home. We must return later. (To Ikey.) Some day I'll 
present you with a Waterbury, Ikey. (Exeunt with Tor- 
rance^ L. U. E.) 

Ikey (upstage, looking off after them). I aint no receiver 
of stolen goods, Jamieson. (Turns dozvn C.) Vat vas dey 
vispering about. It vas some crookedness, 'cause Jamieson 
is so crooked he vould fall down on a straight road. 

Enter Lucy from door of house R. She sees Ikey and 
runs to him C. 

Lucy (to Ikey). Hello, Ikey. 

Ikey (L. C, admiringly). Hello, Lucy. 

Lucy. Come to buy them pigs ? 

Ikey. Sure. Did you tink I vanted to steal dem ? 

Lucy (laughingly) . I didn't know, Ikey. Got your store 
started yet ? 

Ikey. Sure. I got a big sign over de door like dis — Ikey 
Levinsky, dealer in old clothes, pigs, hides, airships, etc. 

Lucy (surprised) . You ought to be a millionaire soon, 
Ikey. Got any insurance yet? 

Ikey. Sure. I couldn't be no millionaire midout no insur- 
ance. 

Lucy. I guess you're right, Ikey. I'm going to ask you 
a question. How many swallows make a summer ? 

Ikey. How many summers make a schwallow ? 

Lucy. No — how many swallows make a summer ? 

Ikey (meditatively) Summers — schwallows — sore t'roat, 
pneumonia. (After a pause.) Jerusalem! I don't know dot, 
Lucy. 



THE TOWN MARSHAL. 13 

Lucy. Neither do I, Ikey, but I know a South Dakota 
grasshopper makes a good many springs. 

Ikey (shozving by facial play that the joke dawns upon 
him, and he seniles broadly). Moses! Dot vas a good one. 
A Dakota grasshopper makes a good many jumps. So, Hke 
dis. (Jumps about stage.) 

Enter Mary from house R. She stands at door and 
watches others. 

Lucy (laughingly) . You look like a kangaroo, Ikey. 

Ikey. I must go now, Lucy. Ven you come down town 
call and see me. Good-bye. (Goes upstage and throws kiss 
at Lucy who responds in kind.) 

Mary (shocked). What in the world do you two mean 
by throwing kisses at each other? 

Ikey (startled). Oh, Moses!' She nearly caught us dot 
time. (Exit L. U. E.) 

Lucy (at C, nervously) . I was only kidding him, Aunt 
Mary. 

Mary (sternly). Go to the kitchen instantly! I shall 
report this to Miss Hartley, never fear. 

Enter Laura Hartley, L. U. E. She comes dozvn C. 
slozvly. 

Lucy (as she goes to house R., aside). She's jealous. 
(To Mary). How kin I help it when my goodlookin' friends 
throw kisses at me? 

JMary. Listen to the foolish girl ! 

Lucy (at door of house). Well, I aint seeing anybody 
throwing kisses at an old mummy like you. {Exit into 
house R.) 

Mary (shrieks) Old mummy ! She calls me mummy ! 

Laura (laughingly as she sits in rustic chair C). Don't 
mind Lucy, Aunt Mary. She is perfectly harmless. 

Mary (angrily ). I won't tolerate her any longer. Either 
she leaves or I go East, back to my home, by the next train, 

Laura. No, you won't. Aunt ^Tary. You are too wise to 
listen to the saying:s of an untutored girl of the West. 



14. THE TOWN MARSHAL. 

Mary. Well, I won't leave for your sake, Laura. But 
won't I thrash her when I lay my hands on her? 

Laura. Certainly not. When you learn to know Lucy 
better, you will make the discovery that she is a diamond in 
the rough. 

Mary. Well, I hope she won't prove to be a paste dia- 
mond. Where on earth did she spring- from ? 

Laura. She is the child of a poor homesteader who is 
working a farm somewhere in Montana, I believe. Her 
mother died when the family was passing through here some 
five years ago and attracted by the homeless creature, I gave 
her a home. 

Mary (coming dozvn off veranda and going to Laura C). 
You are a dear, sweet, good-hearted girl, Laura. Where's 
your father? 

Laura. I left him at Mr. Desmond's office a half hour 
ago. 

Mary. That's the Town Marshal. What can your father 
want of him? 

Laura. Oh, then you haven't heard? 

Mary (surprised). Heard what? 

Laura. Some thieves entered father's office last night 
and stole several valuable documents. 

Mary. Gracious ! Are there burglars in this country ? 

Laura. Crime exists even in South Dakota, Aunt Mary. 
(Hoofbeafs heard off L. Rises and looks off L. U. E.) 
Why, there comes Mr. Desmond himself. 

Mary. That's the second time he's been here this week, 
and the first visit wasn't due to a burglary either. 

Laura (coming down C. to rustic seat). Why, Aunt 
Mary— 

Mary (interrupting). If I'm not mistaken, Laura, this 
handsome Town Marshal has made a deep impression in 
a certain quarter. 

Laura (sits in rustic chair). If you allude to me, Aunt 
Mary, you are in error. Why, I scarcely know him. I only 
met him at the pound party at the Methodist church a month 
ago. 



THE TOWN MARSHAL. 15 

Mary. That's all very well, Laura, but let me tell you 
that love reaches the heart by the shortest pathway and — 

Laura (interrupting). Fie! An old maid discoursing 
upon love ! I think you would better place another plate on 
the supper table, Aunt Mary. 

]\L\RY. Very well, Laura. • (Goes to house R.) Supper 
will be ready in half an hour. (Exit into house R.) 

Desmond (offstage, L. U. E.). Whoa! 

Laura (looking L,, nervously). If Aunt Mary has so 
easily read my heart, how about Mr. Desmond? I must 
learn to control myself better. (Removes her hat and busies 
herself zvith feather.) 

Enter Desmond, L. U. E. He sees Laura, C, and starts, 
then comes down tq her smilingly, hat in hand. 

Desmond (at L. of rustic chair C). Ahem! Miss Hart- 
ley! 

Laura (looks up at him). Ah, is it you, Mr. Desmond? 
Good afternoon. 

Desmond. Good afternoon. Did I surprise "you ? Well, 
I'm agreeably surprised, for I did not expect to find you at 
home. 

Laura. I left my father with you. Surely you did not 
expect to find him sitting here ? 

Desmond. I'm sure I didn't know and now that I know, 
I wouldn't have it any dififerent. {Looks at tuatch.) Jiminy ! 
Where can he be? He said he'd meet me here at 5 o'clock 
and it's one minute past. 

Laura. He is a punctual man, Mr. Desmond, so you will 
not be compelled to wait long. Have you discovered any 
clues in the matter of the burglary? 

Desmond. Would you care if I sat down. Miss ITartley? 

Laura (confused). Pardon me for not asking you to do 
so long ago. Please be seated. (Points to scat to R. of 
her.) 

Desmond (taking seat). Thank you. Now, as to this 
burglary — I have no certain clue, but I've suspicions aplenty. 
(Fumbles Jiis hat nervously.) 

Laura. Suspicions ? 



16 THE TOWN MARSHAL. 

Desmond. Yes, Miss Hartley. I received a telegram to- 
day informing me that a dangerous character — a crook — 
was in town. 

Laura. Have you seen this man? 

Desmond. No, but I'll have him on the carpet shortly. 

Laura. You interest me hugely, Mr. Desmond. 

Desmond (confused). I interest you, Miss Hartley! Re- 
ally, I— I— 

Laura. Your profession, that of tracing crime, hunting 
down transgressors and bringing the guilty to judgment, is 
a romantic one. 

Desmond (after a pause). Well, Miss Hartley, I can't 
say I like it. It's mighty prosaic to me. I'd rather be a 
stonemason or bridge builder than accomplish the greatest 
feat Sherlock Holmes ever dreamed of. Both serve society 
in a way, but the handiwork of the bridge builder will be 
admired long after the feats of Holmes are forgotten. 

L^URA. There is nothing prosaic about a profession that 
embodies all the elements of personal danger. Don't you 
sometimes fear for your life? 

Desmond (laughingly) . Yes, I do. I have been so fright- 
ened at times, that my hat wouldn't stay on my head. 

Laura. I can scarcely believe you, Mr. Desmond. 

Desmond. Had any one told me a year ago that I would 
become a Town Marshal in South Dakota, I would have 
laughed at him. But I got into the drift of it somehow 
without knowing it and here I am. 

Laura. How came you to adopt the profession ? 

Desmond. By accident, I presume. I came here four 
years ago, and finding nothing more respectable open to me, 
I accepted a deputyship under Sheriff Jones. I happened by 
pure luck to capture Sam Harris' gang of road agents, 
and my reward was my election to the responsible post of 
Town Marshal of Plainbury. 

Laura (admiringly) . I often heard father speak of that 
exploit. You captured four desperate men alone and single- 
handed. How wonderful ! 

Desmond. Not so wonderful as you think. Miss Hartley. 
The men were out of amunition — 



THE TOWN MARSHAL. ^ 17 

Laura (interrupting) . But you were not aware of that 
when you faced them and entered their lair. 

Desmond {nervously) . Why, anybody would have done 
what I did. It was only a question of opportunity. A 
deputy sheriff must take chances if he is made of the right 
stuff and wants to do his duty. I merely did my duty. 

Laura. But when duty leads you to almost certain death 
— what then? 

Desmond. We haven't time to think of those things, Miss 
Hartley. We take the chance and most generally we bag 
what we go after. 

Laura. You are a brave man, Mr. Desmond. 

Desmond (eonfused). That can't be so, Miss Hartley, 
for when you look at me like that, I want to run from you 
like a scared wolf. 

Laura (laughingly). Strange that a weak woman like 
me should frighten so strong a man as you. 

Desmond (plays zvith his hat in confusion) . Of course 
you don't frighten me, but since the other night when we 
sat on that veranda until Aunt Mary had to spring the time 
on us, I feel like a school boy in your presence. Why, I 
am afraid of myself — 

Laura. Do I inspire fear in you ? 

Desmond. No, not half as much as Aunt Mary. 

Laura (gayly). Come, you have told me only a part of 
your history. There must be much more that would interest 
me, Mr. Desmond. 

Desmond (starts). There's nothing in my history to 
edify you, Miss Hartley. 

Laura. Tell me of your home life — your family. You 
had a mother — does she live? 

Desmond (sadly). No, she died ten years ago, the best 
and noblest mother the sun ever shone upon. 

Laura (sighs). How sad! My mother too, died when 
I was a mere child, and how her death saddened my life, 
none will ever know. And your father — ? 

Desmond (rises in agitation). My father — my father — 
(hesitates.) 

Laura (eagerly). Yes — yes — ? 



18 THE TOWN MARSHAL. 

Desmond (after a pause). He too, is — is — dead! (Hoof- 
beats off stage R. U. E.) There's your father coming, Miss 
Hartley. (Goes upstage.) 

Laura (rises and goes to house, R.). There is a secret 
in his hfe, but will it ever rise up between us? Heaven 
knows. (Sighs). How strangely he affects me. (Exit into 
house, R.) 

Hartley (offstage, L. U. E.). Hello, Desmond. Beat 
me home, didn't you? 

Desmond (calling off, L. U. E.). By a length only, Mr. 
Hartley. 

Enter Hartley, L. U. E. He comes dozvn C, Desmond 

follozving him. 

Hartley. I stopped at Jenkins' place on my way to see 
about buying his wheat crop. He's a lucky chap. I guess 
he'll thresh thirty bushels to the acre and that's doing well 
for this part of the country. 

Desmond. Agriculture is not my long suit, Mr. Hartley. 
The task of catching the fellows who stole your documents 
interests me far more than wheat. 

Hartley (laughs). It depends upon what is in the bone, 
Desmond. I was raised on wheat and I expect I'll die in it. 
But you're right, the burglary is the question of the hour. 

Desmond. Did you have a talk with Clancy ? 

Hartley. I did, and as I expected, he denied any knowl- 
edge of the affair. Clancy has been in my employ for a long 
time and I can't conceive how he would aid in this burglary, 
as you seem to suspect. 

Desmond. I may be wrong about Clancy, but he vv^as seen 
in Jamieson's office several times lately, and I surmised there 
was a bond between them. 

Hartley. There's nothing wrong about that, Desmond. 
Jamieson drew up the very document which was stolen. 

Desmond (thoughtfully). That's the first clue in this 
affair. Take my advice, Mr. Hartley, and steer clear of this 
fellow. 

Hartley. What have you against him? 



THE TOWN MARSHAL. 19 

Desmond. He has a bad reputation. He is one of the 
proprietors of the Golden Crescent gambling house, and 
you should know what that place is. 

Hartley (laugJiiiigly). Well, rather! I was skinned out 
of $2,000 in a faro game at that place one night. 

Desmond. And Jamieson probably got one-half of the 
plunder. I regard him as a dangerous chap. 

Hartley. May be so, Desmond. But why the old Harry 
should Clancy be mixed up in this burglary, as you think? 
How could he possibly profit by the theft of the documents 
that were taken? There was $2,000 in the safe at the time, 
and if the burglars wanted real valuables, why didn't they 
take that? 

Desmond. There's no accounting for the tastes of bur- 
glars, Mr. Hartley. Evidently they wanted the papers and 
not the money. Nov/, to refresh my memory, tell me again 
the character of the documents that were stolen. (Takes 
out notebook.) 

Hartley (sits in rustic seat C). First, they took the 
deed to some 600,000 acres of land across the Missouri 
which I own absolutely. 

Desmond (making note). I presume the deed is recorded. 
Hartley. Certainly. 

Desmond. Therefore not negotiable. Taken probably to 
ascertain precise boundaries and the like. Next. 

HARTLfeY. An agreement to sell this land to one Henry 
Bothman of New York on or before July 1 of this year for 
one dollar an acre. 

Desmond (making note). Agreement to sell at one dollar 
an acre. What is the land worth today ? 
Hartley. About $1.50 an acre. 

Desmond. A valuable agreement to Bothman. Do you 
know this man ? 

Hartley. I never saw him to my knowledge. The deal 
was arranged by Jamieson, who said Bothman would appear 
on or before the date of expiration of the agreement. 

Desmond. Jamieson again ! You can't down him. How 
came you to retain the agreement in your custody? 



20 THE TOWN MARSHAL. 

Hartley. It was stipulated that I was to hold the in- 
strument until the forfeit of $10,000 was paid, and that if 
the money was not forthcoming by that date, the agreement 
would be null and void. 

Desmond (meditatively). And this is the last day of 
June. If Bothman does not appear tomorrow, the agreement 
is null and void? 

Hartley. Precisely. 

Desmond. Suppose Bothman is a mythical character ex- 
isting only in the fertile brain of Jamieson? 

Hartley. Then the agreement must lapse of its own 
accord. 

Desmond (after a pause). Suppose Bothman really ex- 
isted and had repented of his bargain ? Or suppose Jamieson 
himself had resolved to engage in a wildcat speculation and 
required the agreement and deed? Might not that have 
prompted the theft of the documents? 

Hartley. By Jove ! There is something to that ! This 
looks very much like a conspiracy. 

Desmond. You have hit the nail upon the head ker- 
plunk, Mr. Hartley. It is a conspiracy to deprive you of 
your land at a price far below the market value. 

Hartley (rising). It is too deep a puzzle for me. 

Desmond. But it is not so deep that it may not be probed 
to the very bottom, and, by all the gods, we will do it ! 

Hartley. I think you're the man for the job, Desmond. 
Do your best, for I want to hold on to this property for 
Laura's sake. 

Desmond. To be sure. 

Hartley. When I signed that agreement six months 
ago that land wasn't worth one dollar an acre. The an- 
nouncement that the Indian Reservation would be opened 
shortly caused the value of my land to boom like a sky- 
rocket. If I am forced to sell it now, it means a loss of more 
than $300,000 to me. 

Desmond. It must not be sold, Mr. Hartley. 

Hartley. But, hang it all ! If that agreement crops up 
tomorrow, I'll be forced to sell. 



THE TOWN MARSHAL. 21 

Enter Laura from house R. She stands on veranda and 
watches others. 

Desmond. Let the agreement be presented and then we 
will fight it tooth and nail in court, if need be. If it shows 
up, it will be prima facie evidence that Jamieson stole or 
caused it to be stolen from you. 

Laura (on veranda R.). Supper's ready, father. Won't 
you join us, Mr. Desmond? 

Desmond. I fear I have not the time, Miss Hartley. It 
is rather late. 

Laura. That is too bad, Mr. Desmond. 

Hartley (taking Desmond's arm and draggiiig him to 
veranda R.). Nonsense, my boy! I have some things I want 
to show you. Have you ever played football? 

Desmond. Have I ? I used to be coach for the Michigan 
University team. 

Hartley. And I played half-back at Harvard years ago. 
Won't we have a fine time discussing trick plays, punts and 
the like? 

Desmond (going to veranda with Hartley). I shall be 
delighted ; but I fear I shall prove a bore to Miss Flartley. 

Hartley (laughingly). A bore! Did you ever hear of 
such nonsense, Laura? 

Laura. I have no fear that Mr. Desmond will ever prove 
a bore. 

Enter Jamieson and Torrance L. U. E. They discover 
Hartley, Desmond and Laura on veranda. Jamieson 
points to them av.d whispers to Torrance. 

Desmond (his hack is turned to L. U. E.). If you are 
willing to take the risk, I have nothing further to say. 

Mary (offstage R.). Supper! 

Hartley. Hurry up ! If we allow the victuals to get cold 
we'll have to answer to Mary Ann, and heaven forbid ! (Ex- 
eunt Hartley, followed bv Laura and Desmond, in.to house 
R.) 

Jamieson (coming dozvn C. zvith Torrance and going to 
veranda — aside). Invited to supper, eh? How is it that Des- 



22 THE TOWN MARSHAL. 

mond is so thick with the Hartleys? There "is something 
wrong about this. Does this Town Marshal love Laura? If 
so, it is high time that I balk his game. {Turns to Torrance 
C. ) You got a good view of Hartley, Torrance ? 

Torrance (sighs). Yes. 

Jamieson. No one in this place ever saw you until today ? 

Torrance. No one. 

Jamieson. They don't know you as Torrance, eh? 

Torrance (nervously). No. 

Jamieson. Well, then, when you call yourself Botham, 
as you will tomorrow, it v/ill occasion neither surprise nor 
suspicion. 

Torrance (pleadingly) . Oh, do not force this thing upon 
me — 

Jamieson (interrupting) . Suppose I reveal the fact that 
your name is not Torrance — that you are — 

Torrance (despairingly). Enough — enough! 

Jamieson. You are extremely sensitive, Mr. Bothman. 

Torrance. You are driving me mad ! Suppose the real 
Bothman turns up, what will become of me? 

Jamieson. But he will not turn up. Have I not told you 
that he has passed up the entire scheme? Have I not also 
told you that it was this very fact that impelled me to use 
you as a substitute ? In a Vv^eek after this agreement has been 
formally validated by the payment of the forfeit of $10,000, 
which will be given to you in the morning, I shall dis- 
pose of it for $200,000 to a Chicago syndicate. That's pretty 
good, eh? 

Torrance. But I will have committed a crime — 

Jamieson (interrupting). Don't be a child and don't cross 
the bridge until you come to it. Sufficient unto the day is 
the evil thereof. That's scripture. Do you ever read scrip- 
ture, Torrance? 

Torrance (despairingly). My God! Why do you mock 
me ? I am in your power — helpless as a child in your grasp. 

Jamieson (laughingly) I'm glad you realize that fact. 
Now be pleased to act accordingly. Here's a secret. I love 
Laura Hartley. 



THE TOWN MARSHAL. 23 

Torrance {amazed). You ! And do you hope to win her? 

Jamieson. I win pretty much that I go after, old chap. 
You thought it a hopeless task to get those papers last night, 
but we got them, didn't we? 

Torrance. You deceived me in that matter and made a 
thief of me — 

Jamieson (interrupting by placing his hand upon Tor- 
rance's viouth). Don't yell so loud, you fool ! It wasn't me, 
but Clancy. 

Torrance. What will become of me? 

Jamieson. Stop whining and I'll tell you. If this deal 
goes through as it should and will, if you play your part 
correctly, you'll be richer by $10,000 and free to go whither 
you w^ill. 

Torrance. And you will not betray my secret? 

Jamieson. Not unless you give me cause to do so. 

Hartley {offstage R.). All right, Laura. 

Jamieson. You had better return to my office and await 
me there. It won't do to precipitate matters. Hurry, for 
Hartley is coming. 

Torrance. I dare not face Hartley now, for my manner 
would betray me. 

Jamieson. We must see to it that your manner im- 
proves by tomorrow. 

Desmond {offstage R.). Hurry back, Mr. Hartley. 

Torrance {starts). That voice! {He turns to door of 
house R., then reconsiders and hastily exits L. U. E.) 

Jamieson (aside as he zvatchcs house). I must stake my 
all on this deal. He cannot suspect me of having had a hand 
in the burglary of his office. Will he oppose my plan to wed 
Laura? We shall see. 

Enter Hartley from house R. He comes C. 

Hartley (to Jamieson). You here, Jamieson? 

Jamieson. I have come to inform you that I received a 
telegram an hour ago from Bothman declaring his intention 
of taking up your agreement tomorrow. 



24 THE TOWN MARSHAL. 

Hartley (annoyed) . I've changed my mind about that 
agreement. I won't sell the land at present. 

Jamiesgn. You cannot evade the terms of that agree- 
ment, Mr. Hartley. The money stipulated for, $10,000, will 
be paid in person by Bothman tomorrow. 

Hartley. But I refuse to accept it — 

Jamiesgn (inferntpting). The court may force you to 
accept. Bothman has the agreement, and you may be sure 
he will insist upon its fulfillment. 

Hartley. Ah, then Bothman was one of the men who 
rifled my safe last night. 

Jamiesgn (starts slightly, then laughs). Rifled your safe? 
You don't mean to tell me you are the victim of a burglary ? 

Hartley. Yes. 

Jamiesgn. And you suspect Bothman? Why, he left 
here but is on his way back and cannot reach Pine Valley 
until 9 o'clock tomorrow morning. 

Hartley. It is very strange. 

Jamiesgn. You say your safe was rifled. What was 
stolen ? 

Hartley. The agreement of which we speak, together 
with the deed to my land. 

Jamiesgn (whistling coolly). You must be dreaming, 
Hartley. Bothman .advised me he received the agreement 
two months ago — 

Hartley (interrupting hotly). That is a lie! I've never 
heard from the man since you executed the agreem.ent. 
There's something wrong about this transaction, Jamieson, 
and, by heavens, if you are implicated, you shall taste of my 
revenge ! 

Jamiesgn. Very well, sir. Mr. Bothman will be here 
tomorrow and you may settle Avith him. As for me, I wash 
my hands of the entire affair. 

Hartley (after a pause). Well, I want to think this 
thing over. There's a screw loose somewhere, and, by the 
old Harry ! I'm going to find it ! (Exit into house R.) 

Jamiesgn (looking off after him at veranda). He doubts 
and a doubting man seldom accomplishes anything. That 
property will be mine to dispose of as I think proper. 



THE TOWN MARSHAL. 25 

Enter Ikey R. U. E. He comes dozvn R. to Jamieson. 

Jamieson (turns and sees Ikey). Hello, Levinsky ! Here 
again ? 

Ikey. Sure. I ain't in Hoboken. I wants to ask you a 
questions. 

Jamieson. Well, hurry up. I have no time to waste on 
you. 

Ikey. How many schwallows make a summer? 

Jamieson (aside). I'll teach this unsophisticated He- 
brew a lesson. (To Ikey.) You ask how many swallows 
make a summer? 

Ikey. Yes. 

Jamieson. Well, I can't answer that ; but I know that 
one stiff punch in the solar plexus makes a good fall. 
(He strikes Ikey, zuJio falls.) 

Ikey (sits C. looking astonished). I never said anyt'ing 
about a fall. De right answer was dat one Dakota grass- 
hopper makes a good many jumps. 

Jamieson (laughingly). Well, you may jump out of this 
as soon as you like, Ikey. 

Ikey (rubbing his stomach). My, I t'ought a mule kicked 
me. I gif him one for dat someday or my name ain't Levin- 
sky. (Turns upstage.) 

Enter Desmond, Laura and Hartley from house R. 
Laura and Hartley stand on veranda, zvhile Desmond 
conies doz^'n steps and stands near by. Jamieson stands fur- 
ther up R. zi'atching others. 

Desmond (to Laura). I must thank you for your hos- 
pitality, Miss Hartley. I regret that urgent business forces 
me to bid you good evening so early. 

Laura (going to C. zvith Desmond). I shall see you 
oftener, then, Mr. Desmond? 

Desmond. With your permission, every day. (They con- 
fer C.) 

Jamieson (aside). That does not meet with my view. I 
may as well spring my mine now. (Goes C. to Laura.) 
May I have a word with you in private, Miss Hartley? 



26 THE TOWN MARSHAL. 

Laura (starts). In private? You may speak here and 
now. What is it? 

Jamieson (casting malignant glance at Desmond). I 
prefer not to speak in the presence of this fellow. 

Desmond (starts). Sir! 

Laura. Mr. Desmond is my friend — a friend of my fa- 
ther's. Yet you dare to insult him in my presence. 

Desmond. He shall answer to me, never fear. 

Hartley (coming C). Let us have* ho quarreling here, 
gentlemen. 

Jamieson. I seek no quarrel with that man. 

Enter Mary from house R. She stands on veranda and 
watches. A moment later, enter Lucy. She also stands on 
veranda and zvatches. 

Laura. Are you afraid to mention Mr. Desmond by 
name? 

Jamieson. I know no Mr. Desmond. 

Laura (starts). Oh! 

Desmond (threateningly) . You shall know more of him 
later, to your cost! 

Jamieson. I wish to warn you. Miss Hartley, against 
this individual in whom you seem strangely interested. 

Laura. Explain yourself, Mr. Jamieson. 

Jamieson. You probably are not aware that this man 
whom you have honored with your friendship, bears an as- 
sumed name ! (All show great interest.) 
■ Laura (horrified) . An assumed name! (To Desmond.) 
You hear what he says ? Speak ! Does he speak the truth ? 

Desmond (confused). I — I — I decline to answer any 
charge brought against me by such a scoundrel as this ! 

Jamieson (laughingly). A heroic answer, but he convicts 
himself. I repeat, Desmond is not this man's name. Ask 
him why he does not bear his father's name. 

Laura (to Desmond). You do not deny it? Then it 
must be true. You are not Mr. Desmond then ? 

Hartley (to Desmond). Tell her Jamieson lies. 

Desmond (pleadingly). There are reasons why I cannot 
give you an answer now, Miss Hartley. 



THE TOWiM MARSHAL. 27 

Jamieson {triumphantly). He admits the truth. 

Laura {hides her face in her hands). Oh, the horror of 
it ! You bear an assumed name and refuse to say why. (She 
turns from Desmond zuhen he turns to her.) 

Desmond (at C). I cannot answer you now, but when 
you know all, you will at least realize that I am a man of 
honor. Farewell! (Desmond turns proudly up L. Laura 
looks at him appealingly for a moment, then turns sadlv to 
house and goes up steps, exiting with a gesture of despair. 
I KEY stands up L., near Desmond, while PIartley is dozvn 
R. Mary and Lucy follow Laura into house at — ) 

CURTAIN. 



Act IL 



Scene: Desmond's apartment, tzvo zveeks later, in 3. 
Practical door R. U. E., L. 2 E. and C. in F. Windozv 
R. C. in F., shozving garden outside. Sideboard and glasses 
and decanter, to R. of C. D. Fireplace, with mantle, R. 2 E. 
Table and tzvo chairs in front of fireplace. Sofa, L. C. 
Rugs on floor. Room should have a cosy appearance, 
though plainly furnislied. Books and papers on table. See 
Scene Plot for stage setting. 

At rise, Jenkins knocks at C. D. several times, then, after 
a moment, he opens door and looks in zvitlwuf shozving his 
body. 

Jenkins (looking about). Anybody to hum? By LIek 
it don't seem like it. (He enters and conies dozvn C.) 
Guess I'm the only thing that lives and breathes here, unless 
it be a cat, and I don't see none. Wonder ef Desmond's 
got back? I wonder if that's his name? Ikey says they 
had a right smart talk about his name at the Hartley place 
two weeks ago, and since Desmond went away I've noticed 
quite a change in Miss Laura. By sassafras ! If she don't 
love Desmond, then I don't know how to read human natur'. 
(Examines books on table.) 



28 THE TOWN MARSHAL. 

Enter Ikey_, C. D. He comes down C. 

Ikey {to Jenkins). How you do, Mr. Jenkins? 

Jenkins. You're jist the critter I want to bump against, 
Ikey. How about them Berkshire hogs I sold you Satur- 
day? 

Ikey (shows virtuous surprise). You sell me hogs last 
Saturday — me ? 

■Jenkins. By ginger ! Air ye goin' to deny it ? 

Ikey. Me, Ikey Levinsky, buy hogs on Saturday. Oh, 
you vas a blasphemer. 

Jenkins {consulting note hook). Them hogs weighed jist 
$60, and by hek you air goin' to pay me instanter ! 

Ikey {takes Jenkins hy arm and leads him, C, confi- 
dentially). I vant to tell you a secret. 

Jenkins. A secret! 

Ikey. Und you promise never, never to give it away? 

Jenkins. I aint in the habit of giving things away, Ikey. 

Ikey {looking about mysteriously and then whispering). 
You vont tell nobody? 

Jenkins. Not a soul, by chowder ! 

Ikey {in tragic whisper). Veil, I am a Jew. 

Jenkins. By ginger ! I wouldn't hev known it ef you 
hedn't told me. 

Ikey. Und you say dat I, a Jew, bought hogs from you 
on Saturday? 

Jenkins. That's what you did, and by gosh you be goin' 
to pay me now or get a thrashin' ! {Squares off before 
Ikey.) 

Ikey {takes money from pocket). I gif you $60 because 
you are rich und don't need it. {Gives money to Jenkins.) 

Jenkins {takes money). By hek! You aint such a fool 
as you look, Ikey. 

Ikey. Remember, I bought dose hogs on a Tuesday. 

Jenkins {laughs). He! He! You kin make it Sunday. 
Don't cut any ice with me which day 'twus. 

Ikey. Now, I vants to ask you a questions. 

Jenkins. Shoot it out, Ikey. 

Ikey. How many summers — no, schwallows make a sum- 
mer? 




THE TOWN MARSHAL. 29 

Jenkins. That's a new one on me, by sassafras ! .Don't 
know, Ikey. 

I KEY. I don't know neider, but I know one good punch in 
de collar plexibus makes a good fall. {He strikes at Jenk- 
ins^ zvh'o evades blom and knocks him dozvn.) 

Jenkins. He ! He ! Thought you'd do me with your 
gol darned joke that time, eh? 

Ikey (sitting on floor C). You did not gif me de right 
answer. 

Jenkins. By sody ! I gave you a left hook. I kin give 
you one wdth the right, ef yeou be hankerin' arter more 
exercise. 

Enter Lucy, C. D. She sta}ids at door and zuatches for a 
moment. 

Ikey (rising). De right answer vas dat one Dakota grass- 
hopper makes a good many jumps. So (He jumps to L.) 

Lucy (coming laughingly dozvn C). I see Ikey has got 
'em again. What's the matter, Ikey? 

Ikey (confused). I vas only practicing for a jumping 
race at de picnic. 

Lucy (going to table ^ R. C). Looked to me like it was 
jumping hurdles. 

Jenkins (at L. C). He! He! Sack race, you mean. 
'What be you doin' here, Lucy? 

Lucy. Lookin' for Desmond. Haint he here? 

Jenkins. Don't 'pear like it. Jist hecrd in the street that 
he come back. 

Ikey. Sure, he come back. I saw him at de train, und 
he say he come home soon. 

Lucy (sits on sofa, L. C). Then I plant myself here 
until he comes, fur I've got a letter fur him. (Produces 
letter from belt.) It's from Aunt Mary. 

Jenkins (starts). Mary Ann writin' to Desmond. By 
chowder ! He ain't goin' to cut me out, I reckon. 

Lucy (laughingly). She aint sweet on him, Uncle Jeb. 
You've got tile inside track on him in that quarter. 

Jenkins. D'ye mean it, Lucy? Yeou ain't foolin'? 



30 THE TOWN MARSHAL. 

Lucy. She's always talkin' about you, Uncle Jeb. She 
thinks you're a great catch. 

Jenkins (struts about pleased). Wall, there be many 
worse than I be, by beeswax ! 

Lucy. She's coming down here in a few minutes with 
Miss Laura to see Desmond. You'd better take my tip and 
make hay while the sun shines. 

Jenkins. Thet's what we do in South Dakota ! I've got 
to go to the store and see about them things fur my new 
barn. (Goes to C. D.) 

Lucy. Don't stay away long. Uncle Jeb. 

Jenkins (opens door C). I'll be gone five minutes. 
(He turns and bumps into Jamieson, zvho is jttst entering — ■ 
to Jamieson.) Oh, it's you, Jamieson. I didn't cal'late to 
run ag'in a skunk so earlv in the mornin'. 

Jamieson (sternly). Be careful how you address your 
betters, Mr. Jenkins. 

Jenkins. I will when I meet 'em, by sassafras ! (Exit 
C. D.) 

Jamieson (aside). The insolent wretch! (Turns dozun 
C. and sees others.) Why, here's Lucy and Le\insky, too. 
I was not aware that Desmond's room was the meeting place 
for every chance wanderer in South Dakota. (Goes to table 
R. C.) 

Lucy. If I had known you were coming I'd have stayed 
away. I'm awful careful of the company I'm in. 

Ikey (behind Lucy at sofa). Me too, Jamieson. 

Jamieson (irritated). You are complimentary. Well, 
children must have their amusement. 

Lucy (going to mantle R. 2 E.^ and putting letter there- 
on). I'll leave this for Mr. Desmond. I've got to get some 
fresh air. Come along, Ikey. It's too close m here now. 
(Goes to C. D.) 

Ikey (follozving Lucy to C. D.). Sure, Jamieson gives 
me de headache. (Lucy and Ikey make faces at Jamieson, 
and at a threatening move of his, both exit C. D in F.) 

Jamieson (alone). Bah, when my plans mature and 
Laura Hartley becomes my wife, I can well afford to laugh 
at this riffraff which now finds me objectionable. I wonder 



THE TOWN MARSHAL. 31 

what Desmond's trip was about, and what he accomphshed ? 
I thought I had spiked his guns as far as Laura is con- 
cerned, but my battle, it appears, is only half won. I must 
have an understanding with Desmond. If he agrees to my 
demands all will be well. Should he refuse, then it is war 
to the death between us. (Goes to mantle and looks at let- 
ter.) A letter for Desmond. It is the handwriting of Mary 
Ann Hartley. What can she be writing to Desmond about ? 

Enter Desmond, R. U. E. He carries a suitcase and long 
coat. He puts case dozvn near sideboard, removes his gloves, 
sighs, takes drink at sideboard, then turn dozvn R. Jamie- 
SFN, on seeing him, hastily returns letter to its place on the 
mantle and crosses to C. 

Desmond (to Jamieson). You received my telegram, it 
seems. 

Jamieson. If you refer to your wire requesting me to 
meet you here, yes. 

Desmond (pointing to chair L. at table). Be seated. 

Jamieson (sitting down L. at table). Thank you. 

Desmond (turning to mantle, sees letter, takes it up), A 
letter for me ! Who could have left it ? 

Jamieson (looking at a book). Lucy Ames, I believe. 
She left here a moment before your arrival. 

Desmond. I came up by the rear staircase so as to avoid 
encountering my old friends should there be any left, thanks 
to you. Have I your permission to read my letter ? 

Jamieson. You are facetious, Mr. Desmond. 

Desmond (goes C, opens letter and reads). Mr. Desmond 
— Laura has persuaded me to accompany her on a trip to the 
town today, and it possible you and she may meet. I tell 
you confidentially, she does not ascribe terrible motives to 
you, even if you are living under an alias. Offer her some 
sort of explanation, my friend, and be assured, not only of 
her good will, but respect. Alary Ann Hartley. (Puts let- 
ter in pocket — aside.) Thank God ! Laura does not ascribe 
terrible motives to me for living under an alias. And yet, 
how can I tell her the truth? (Goes to R. of table and sits 
in chair — to Jamieson.) Now to business, Jamieson. 



32 THE TOWN MARSHAL. 

Jamieson. I am at your service, Desmond. 

Desmond (coldly). It is time you and I understand each 
other. I take it, we are enemies, eh ? 

Jamieson. I aim to be your friend^ — 

Desmond (interrupting) . You merely juggle with words, 
Jamieson. I'd rather be a convict than own friendship with 
a rascal like you. 

Jamieson (angrily). I did not come here to be insulted 
by you, Desmond. 

Desmond. And yet you did not hesitate to insult me pub- 
licly at Mr. Hartley's house two weeks ago. I am a man 
of plain speech, but I have no irons in the fire, nor do I wear 
a hypocritical mask like you. 

Jamieson (sarcastically). I presume there is no hypoc- 
risy in living under an alias as you do, Desmond. 

Desmond. It is the motive that marks the degree of 
hypocrisy, and in my case, it is forced upon me, not because 
of my own act, but because of the act of another. Nay, 
do not interrupt me. By some trick, you secured informa- 
tion regarding me and my family, which I fondly hoped 
was buried and would soon be forgotten. You have used 
that information, however basely acquired it may have been, 
to degrade me in the estimation of the woman I love. 

Jamieson. You refer to Laura Hartley? 

Desmond. To whom else should I refer? 

Jamieson. I too, love Laura Hartley, as ardently as your- 
self. 

Desmond (scornfully). You love a pure woman! It is a 
sacrileg'e ! 

Jamieson. I have the right to love as well as yourself. 
I am a jealous man and I employ the best weapons at hand 
to aid my suit. 

Desmond. The man of honor who has a rival in love, em- 
ploys honorable methods to win the woman of his choice. 
He would die rather than descend to base trickery as you 
did two weeks ago. 

Jamieson. I told the truth and you know it. 

Desmond. You mean you distorted it to serve' your pur- 
pose. 



. THE TOWN MARSHAL. t 33 

Jamieson. I said your name of Desmond was assumed. 
Is that true ? 

Desmond. I admit nothing to you, Jamieson. 

Jamieson. I said also, you dared not reveal your purpose 
in assuming an alias. Did I speak the truth? 

Desmond. I decline to answer. I am not on trial, I be- 
lieve. 

Jamieson. You evade the issue admirably, Desmond. I 
think you and I stand on the same level. 

Desmond. You think so, Jamieson? We shall see. I 
think I know why you maligned me before the Hartleys the 
other day. (After a pause.) It was to shoulder me with 
the responsibility of the theft of Mr. Hartley's papers, of 
which crime, I fancy, you know more than you are willing to 
admit. 

Jamieson (laughingly). You are a humorist, Desmond. 

Desmond. Aye, but you may not think so before you are 
a month older. I shall prove you not only a blackguard, but 
a thief as well, Jamieson. 

Jamieson (annoyed). Let us get down to business, Des- 
mond. 

Desmond. I am getting down to it rapidly, I assure you. 
I give you three days to settle up your affairs and leave the 
state. 

Jamieson. Bah ! You speak childishly. 

Desmond. Perhaps so, but wait. I have been out of 
town for two weeks, and I have collected enough evidence 
of wrongdoing on your part to hang you out of hand. If 
you are wise, you will depart without delay. 

Jamieson. Now, let me have my say, Desmond. I say 
Desmond, knowing that is not your real name. I will give 
you three days in which to leave this place or stand exposed 
before all the world. 

Desmond. Indeed ! Are there any conditions attached to 
your demand? 

Jamieson. You may remain here as long as you like and 
retain your office of Town Marshal on condition that you 
give up Laura Hartley and never speak to her again. 



.34 ^ THE TOWN MARSHAL. 

Enter Laura^ C. D. in F. She stands at door unobserved 
and watches. 

Desmond. You demand that I shall never speak to Laura 
Hartley again? (Picks up a glove and toys zvith it as he 
leans further across the table and faces Jamieson.) 

Jamieson. I demand it! Your answer? 

Desmond (slapping Jamieson'^ face zmth glove) . That is 
my answer, you hound ! 

Jamieson (springing up and half drazving revolver). 
I'll have your life for this ! 

Desmond (moving to C. and disarming him). Not this 
time, Jamieson. I've met chaps like you before. 

Laura (coming down C). What does this mean, gentle- 
men? Weapons drawn, and for what? 

Desmond (laughingly). Air. Jamieson was merely re- 
hearsing a part of a villain he is to portray at an amateur 
performance. 

Jamieson. I — I think that is right, Miss Hartley. 

Laura (looking from one to the other puzzled). I, do not 
understand. 

Jamieson. Mr. Desmond has my permission to enlighten 
you. For the present, I beg to excuse myself. 

Desmond. That is an entirely useless formality, Jamie- 
son. 

Jamieson (aside to Desmond C). He laughs best who 
laughs last. I shall return, and when I do, I'll play my trump 
card. 

Desmond. See that you don't take it out of your sleeve, 
Jamieson. Play the game squarely. (Turns to Laura, zvho 
seats herself on sofa L. C.) 

Jamieson (aside as he goes to C. D.). He wants war, and 
he shall have it. (Exit C. D.) 

Enter Mary and Jenkins, C. D. in F. 

Jenkins. There's Jamieson again. By hek! I'd like to 
poison him. 

Mary. What an odious person. He sends a shiver through 
me every time I see him. 

Desmond. He is harmless. Aunt Mary. 



THE TOWN MARSHAL. 35 

Jenkins. He's like Bill Baker's toothless dog, Chowder, 
all bark and no bite. 

Mary {to Laura). Nice way to treat your chaperons, 
Laura. You left me quite in the lurch. 

Laura. While you stood in the garden awaiting Uncle 
Jeb, I walked on and at the door heard loud and angry 
voices. I opened it without knocking and entered just in 
time to see Mr. Desmond disarm Mr. Jamieson, who wanted 
to shoot him. 

]\L\RY. Gracious me ! Jamieson wanted to shoot Mr. 
Desmond ? 

Desmond {at C). It was a trifling matter, ladies, so 
pray dismiss it from your minds. Now that you are here 
it is proper that I make the explanation as to myself, which 
is 3^our due, and which I hope will serve to exculpate me 
from the taint of wrongdoing. 

Jenkins {taking his hand). By ginger! You don't 
need to sculp yourself on my account, Desmond. You're 
true blue and I'll bet my bottom dollar on it. 

Desmond. Thank you. Uncle Jeb. I shall make my 
statement and throw myself upon the niercy of the ladies. 

Mary. Gracious me ! Are you going to confess to some- 
thing horrible? {sits on sofa L. C.) 

Laura {sitting on sofa beside Mary). Don't be fright- 
ened. Aunt Mary. {Turns to Desmond^ ivho staiids C.) I 
owe an apology to Mr. Desmond for thrusting myself upon 
him in this unwarranted manner. 

Desmond. No apology in needed, T^Iiss Hartley. {After 
a pause.) Painful as it is to me to admit it — Jamieson told 
the truth — I bear a false name. 

Laura {sighs). Ah! 

Jenkins {near mantle, R. 2 E.). By sassafras! I don't 
believe it yet! 

Mary. You have a reason for this no doubt, T^Ir. Des- 
mond, and a good one, too. 

Desmond. My father was a private secretary in the em- 
ploy of the manager of a large concern in the East for many 
years prior to five years ago. We lived happily together 
until one day my father was arrested for forgery. 



36 THE TOWN MARSHAL. 

Laura. Forgery ! 

Desmond. He was tried, and despite his solemn assevera- 
tions of innocence, he was convicted and sentenced to a 
term of five years in the penitentiary. 

Mary. How dreadful ! 

Jenkins. By beeswax ! There be a lot of them fellows 
still outside the pen. 

Desmond. My father suffered for another — he himself 
was guiltless. 

Laura. Horrible ! 

Desmond. In the course of his duties as secretary, my 
father signed documents of every description for his su- 
perior officer, who dabbled in the barter of stocks at the ex- 
change. A rapidly-falling market made it necessary for 
him to raise funds to secure himself against extinction. He 
thought of my father and made him his victim. 

Jenkins. That fellow ought to be shanghaied, by sody! 

Desmond. Among the papers sent to my father to be 
signed was a forged check presumably signed by the presi- 
dent of the concern, and made payable to my father. The 
sum was $100,000. Without looking at the face of the 
check, my father indorsed it and the money was drawn from 
the bank. The manager took the money and sailed for Eu- 
rope, leaving my father to bear the brunt of the storm. 

Laura. How wicked. 

Jenkins. Wicked? 'Taint strong enough. It was a 
goldarned shame ! 

Desmond. My father was arrested as a confederate. 
His story was derided in court by the lawyers and his pleas 
of innocence laughed at as being childish inventions. He 
was convicted and sentenced to prison. I followed him to 
the door of his cell, and the look of horror and despair on 
his face well nigh drove me mad. (Goes to table and 
sits L.) 

Laura (going to Desmond at table). I pity you sin- 
cerely, Mr. Desmond. 

Jenkins (freely using a red bandana handkerchief). By 
chowder! I don't want Mary Ann to see me blubberin' 
like a bull yearling. 



THE TOWN MARSHAL. Zl 

Desmond. I visited him weekly for two years, then went 
West and landed in South Dakota. I adopted my mother's 
name and have been known so ever since. 

Laura. And what became of your father? 

Desmond. Soon after my election as Town Marshal a 
year ago, I wrote him of my adoption of my mother's 
maiden name, but I neglected to inform him of my perma- 
nent address. About six months ago, having business in 
the East, I made inquiries regarding my father and found 
that he had been released from prison and gone West. I 
searched for him everywhere, but could find no trace of 
him. 

Laura. How did Jamieson learn that you bore an as- 
suined name? 

Desmond. I cannot tell. I trust you will pardon this 
shameful disclosure. Miss Hartley. 

Laura. I honor you the more for the confidence you 
have reposed in my aunt and myself. If you will permit us 
to aid you in your search for your father, we shall do all 
in our power to render it successful. 

Mary {on sofa L. C). Laura voices my sentiments, Mr. 
Desmond. 

Jenkins. And mine too, by Hek ! 

Mary {rising suddenly) . Good gracious ! 

Laura. What's the matter, Aunt Mary ? 

Mary. I left my purse lying on the counter of that dry- 
goods store we visited just before we came here. 

Laura. I shall go after it at once. Remain here, Aunt 
Mary, until I return. 

Mary. That is very good of you, Laura. Pray return 
quickly. I have samples of ribbon in that purse I would 
not lose for the world. 

Jenkins {to Mary). How much money hev yeou in that 
purse ? 

Mary. Sixty cents. 

Jenkins. By chowder! If you lose that you lose a right 
smart pile of dust. 

Desmond. I should be pleased to accompany Miss Hart- 
ley to the store as it is on the way to my office. 



38 THE TOWN MARSHAL. 

Laura. I certainly have no objection, Mr. Desmond. 

Jenkins {aside, at table, to Desmond^ while Laura and 
Mary confer at sofa L. C). Don't you hurry back, Des- 
mond. (Pointing to Mary.) I've got a important deal to 
pull off afore yeou arrive, so look fur that purse anywhere 
but the right place. I'll make that sixty cents good. 

Desmond (laughingly). But how about those ribbon 
samples ? 

Jenkins. I'll get her another bunch if I hev to buy out 
the Golden Rule store. 

Laura (going to C. D.). I am ready, Mr. Desmond. 
Good bye, Aunt Mary. 

Mary (looking over nezvspaper at sofa). Return quickly, 
Laura. (Exit Laura, follozved by Desmond C. D. Jenkins 
looks at fastening of door, then looks at Mary and comes 
dozvn C. He shozvs he is zvorried, yet eager to carry out 
his purpose.) 

Jenkins (at table — aside). By ginger! I'll spring it 
onto her now, if it cost me a leg ! Yeou kin most alius get a 
female critter fust pop, ef yeou do it sudden like. (Moves 
tozvard L. C. slozvly and halts.) Nothin' to be skeered about, 
Jeb Jenkins. You've done the same thing a good meny times 
afore and she's only an old maid, ready and willin' fur a 
chance to say the word. By gum ! I hain't been a allfired 
skeery sence I wus held up at Pine Valley and robbed of my 
silver watch and jackknife. I'm ashamed of you, Jeb Jenk- 
ins, to be skeered at your time of life, past sixty-three. (He 
makes zvide detour of sofa and gets behind it — to Mary.) 
Miss Mary Ann Hartley, I'm here. 

Mary (utters sharp cry). My, how you startled me, Mr. 
Jenkins. 

Jenkins. I thought 'twas a mouse — 

Mary (rising and jumping upon sofa zvith her skirts ele- 
vated). A mouse! Where? 

Jenkins. I didn't say 'twas a mouse, but that I thought it 
might hev been one, to make you yell like a Comanche Indian. 
Set down, M^ary Ann. Lucky fur you no one but me saw 
yeou dancing on that sofa jist now. 

Mary (getting dozvn from sofa and sitting). You dare 



THE TOWN MARSHAL. 39 

to call me Mary Ann ? You are offensively familiar, Mr. 
Jenkins. 

Jenkins. By beeswax ! It's a habit of mine, and ye'll 
hev to git used to it like the measles I didn't know Mrs. 
Jeb Jenkins No. 2 three hours afore I called her 'Mandy. 

Mary. What has Mrs. Jeb Jenkins No. 2 to do with me, 
sir? 

Jenkins. I hope not much, Mary Ann. She's been an 
angel for the past four years now. 

Mary. An angel ! 

Jenkins. I reckon so if old St. Peter allowed her to slip 
by him. By Gum ! She had a tongue as sharp as a grass 
cutter — 

Mary (interrupting). Jeb Jenkins, if you think I am go- 
ing to listen to your eulogies of your wives, you are in 
error. 

Jenkins. I jest wanted to tell yeou that I suffered con- 
siderable in the matrimonial line and am willin' to do some 
more sufferin' if yeou say the word. 

Mary. What do you mean, Jeb Jenkins? 

Jenkins. Don't call me Jeb Jenkins in that tone. Call me 
Jeb, my ducky. 

Mary (rising and walking about JwrriHed). Call him Jeb, 
my ducky ! What is the world coming to? (Indignantly.) 
Jeb, my ducky ! 

Jenkins. That's more like it, Mary Ann. We'll hitch 
all right. 

Mary. Hitch! 

Jenkins. Sure ; get spliced. Trot in double harness down 
the avenoos of life. Call on the parson at the old meetin' 
house in the hollow, then dance a hoedown in the barn arter- 
wards. Hoopce ! There's life in old Jeb Jenkins yet, be 
gosh ! (He struts around, JMary looking at him in surprise.) 

]\Iary. Are you insane, Mr. Jenkins? 

Jenkins. Uncle Jeb Jenkins crazy ? Not by a jugfull. A 
little foolish mebbe, fur taking another matrimonial risk at 
his time of life, but always willin' to take any reasonable 
chance. Look at this figure. (Turns himself about before 
Mary.) Look at that leg? See them socks? 'Mandy knit 



40 THE TOWN MARSHAL. 

'em three years afore she died. She was a holy terror at 
knittin' socks. If she wasn't talkin', she was knittin' some- 
thing or other. 

Mary (aside). Shall I call for help? (To Jenkins.) 
What are you talking about? 

Jenkins. Stop your kidding and let's get down to busi- 
ness, Mary Ann. I want yeou to marry me as quick as the 
Lord'll let you do it, by ginger ! 

Mary (amazed). Marry you! How sudden! (She stag- 
gers as if about to faint.) 

Jenkins (assisting her). By gum! 'Mandy said the same 
thing arter I had talked to her fur an hour. Won't we make 
the widder Brown and tother neighbors at the Hollow look 
sick when we go into the meetin' house behind the hearse. 

Mary. Hearse ? 

Enter Lucy and Ikey^ C. D. in F. They stand upstage 
and watch. 

Jenkins By ginger ! I meant the wedding kerridge. It 
don't matter, though, 'cause weddings often are like funer- 
als fur the contracting parties. You and me will have great 
times together, Mary Ann. 

Mary. And you will let me have my own way always, 
Jeb? 

Jenkins. You do the chores and make all the cranberry 
pies I kin eat, and yeou don't hear no kick from me. I've 
got a 2,000-acre farm in wheat, thirty bushel to the acre, 
300 head of stock and $16,000 in the South Dakoty bank. 
It's all yourn fur the asking, providin' yeou take me with it. 

Mary (embracing him). I'll take you, Jebby dear. 

Lucy (upstage C.). Oh, Aunt Mary Ann Hartley, I'm 
ashamed. (Turns away.) 

Mary (breaks azvay from Jenkins). We're observed, 
Jeb. 

Ikey (averting his face from them). Don't mind me, 
'cause I ain't got any eyes in de back of my head. 

Jenkins. I don't care who knows it, Mary Ann. I'm 
going down to the county clerk and git the license. 



THE TOWN MARSHAL. 41 

Mary (restraining Jenkins C). Not yet, Jeb. There's 
plenty of time. 

Jenkins. Plenty of time, by gosh! L guess not. I'm 
sixty-three and yeou ain't much of a length behind. Let's 
pick out the trosser. 

Mary. You mean the bridal trousseau? 

Jenkins. Sure, the street sweeper, yeou know. 

]\L\RY. When we are married, Jeb, I shall teach you a 
few things. 

Jenkins. It's a go, by sody! I'm like Bill Smith's bull 
pup, willin''to learn a few tricks. {Excnnt Jenkins and 
Mary CD.) 

Lucy {at C. D. — to Ikey). Guess I'll go and spread the 
glad tidings, Ikey. 

Ikey. Vat is tidings? We need a rope for dat, don't we? 

Lucy. If you don't learn the English language soon, 
I'll break off our engagement. 

Ikey. Learn de English language ? Forvy? I can count 
my money in bad English just as well as in good. 

Lucy. All right, Ikey, you've got to have lots of money 
before you will be able to spread the news of our engage- 
ment. Come along. (Exeunt Lucy and Ikey C. D.) 

Enter Jamieson R. U. E. He looks about and finds him- 
self alone. Goes down to table R. C. 

Jamieson (solus). I'll play my last card and stake my all 
upon its success ! To revenge myself upon Desmond I must 
contrive to have him meet Torrance and then — ah ! how I'd 
like, to be there to enjoy his discomfiture. I shall expose 
Torrance as an impostor and force him to shoulder the crime 
of the theft of the papers. When Laura learns the truth, 
she will loathe Desmond, and the roadway to her heart will 
be clear for me. I will marry her even though I ruin Des- 
mond and his family. No one will believe Torrance as 
against me, so that I am safe in that regard. If Clancy keeps 
faith with me, I'll have nothing to worry me more. 

Enter Hartley and Desmond C. D. in F. 
Jamieson (sees them and turns to mantle — aside). Now 
for the storm, Desmond. Beware it does not swallow you ! 



42 THE TOWN MARSHAL. 

Desmond (coming to table — to Jamieson). You here 
again, Jamieson ! Let me inform you for the last time that 
your presence in my apartment is distasteful to me. 

Jamieson. If I may have a word with Mr. Hartley, I 
shall take pleasure in quitting this place forever. 

Hartley. Eh? What do you want of me, Jamieson? 
Speak quickly and have done with it. 

Jamieson. I have learned that Torrance, the man we be- 
lived to be Bothman, and to whom you issued that agree- 
ment on payment of $10,000 two weeks ago, is an impostor. 

Hartley. An impostor ! Who the devil is he ? 

Jamieson. That is for the officers of the law to discover, 
not me. Perhaps Mr. Desmond, as the Town Marshal, will 
undertake the task. 

Hartley. He shall do it and bring this impostor and 
his accomplices to justice. 

Desmond. It shall be done, Mr. Hartley. No guilty man 
shall escape now that Clancy has made a partial confession. 

Jamieson (starts). What has Clancy to do with the 
affair ? 

Desmond. He merely gave valuable documents to one 
Torrance at your command. So this man Torrance, then, 
was merely your tool in securing this agreement for the sale 
of 600,000 acres of land at hardly one-half of its market 
price ? 

Jamieson. It's a lie ! 

Hartley. Someone is back of this impostor who holds 
my agreement. Who is he? 

Enter Laura C. D. in F. She stands at door and zvatches 
others. 

Desmond. That is not the question at this time, Mr. 
Hartley. We must find Torrance and learn the truth from 
him. 

Jamieson. Quite right, Desmond. Torrance has a record 
as a convict — 

Desmond (starts visibly). A convict! 

Jamieson. He says he knows you, Desmond. 

Desmond. It is untrue. I know no man of that name. 



THE TOWN MARSHAL. 43 

Jamieson. In a maudlin statement made to me just be- 
fore his departure for Pine \^alley, Torrance charged that 
you had instigated the theft of Mr. Hartley's papers. 

Desmond {after a pause). I don't know why I do not kill 
you where you stand. 

Laura (coming down C). It is time the truth be re- 
vealed. 

Jamieson. Let Desmond arrest Torrance and the truth 
will be revealed. 

Laura. Mr. Desmond will do his sworn duty as an offi- 
cer of the law. Let him capture Torrance and we will see if 
you dare to repeat your statement in his presence. 

Hartley. Where in Pine Valley is Torrance? 

Jamieson. At Hill's dugout. 

Desmond. I shall be there before nisrhtfall. 

Laura (to Desmond). You say you never have met this 
man Torrance? 

Desmond. I swear it upon my honor. 

Laura. I believe you, Mr. Desmond. 

Hartley. Someone is lying. Which is it? Until this 
matter is finally adjusted and the truth established, I shall 
speak to neither of you again. 

Jamieson. Bring Torrance and Desmond face to face 
and then see who lies. 

Desmond. We shall be brought face to face ! If Tor- 
rance lives he shall reveal the truth. I'm off for Pine Vallfey 
without delay. (Takes up hat and gloves.) 

Jamieson (laughingly, aside). I hope he may relish the 
meeting. 

Laura. My faith in you remains unshaken, Mr. Des- 
mond. May God be with you. 

Desmond (going to C. D.). I shall face you tomorrow 
without shame or I shall have ceased to live. (Desmond 
stands at C. D., his face turned to Laura, ivho stands three 
steps dozen R. IJartley stands before mantle and Jamieson 
stands near sofa L. C. until — ) 

CURTAIN. 



44 THE TOWN MARSHAL. 



Act hi. 

Scene: Dugout in Pine Valley, in 3. Rough interior 
representing logs or plaster, showing cracks in zvalls, etc. 
Practical plank door, C. in F., which is reached from outside 
by two steps leading down to it. Another practical door 
R. U. E. Plain cupboard R. of C. D. and rough table, with 
two chairs R. C. Tall screen stands up L. Bunches of vege- 
tables, such as onions or carrots, may be suspended from the 
logs in ceiling. A plain washstand at L. 2 E. with towel 
rack beside it. Several cheap chronios are fastened to the 
walls here and there. See Scene Plot for stage setting. 

At rise door opens and enter Jenkins and Ikey. Both 
are armed with revolvers, zvhich they hold in front of them 
zuarily as they advance to C. Stage is semi-dark and candle 
is used for illuminating scene. 

Jenkins {looking about). There ben't nothing about this 
place to shoot, that I see. Got a matcli, Ikey? 

Ikey. Sure. Here it is. {Takes match from pocket and 
gives it to Jenkins.) 

Jenkins {lighting match). Any candle about here? Sure, 
there be one on the table. {Goes to table R. C, lights candle 
and stage is lighted.) By chowder! This be a lonely hole. 

Ikey. Vat is dat noise? Jerusalem! It is ghosts! {He 
stands close to Jenkins and displays trepidation.) 

Jenkins {listening). I hope it ain't 'Mandy's ghost com- 
ing to ha'nt me fur proposin' to Mary Ann. I don't hear 
nothin', Ikey. 

Ikey {listening intently). Sure, I hear it. Sounds like a 
man eating a saloon free lunch. 

Jenkins {laughingly). He, he! It's the VN^ind rattling 
them bunches of sparrowgrass hangin' to the roof. 



THE TOWN MARSHAL. 45 

Ikey (putting the muzzle of his revolver against Jen- 
kins' hack). Sure, I knowed it vas dat all de time. 

Jenkins {observes Ikey's revolver against his side and 
thrusts it aside). By sassafras! Do yeou want to blow out 
my gizzard ? Take it away ? 

Ikey (looking into the muzzle) Gizzard? Vat is gizzard? 

Jenkins. He, he! Did yeou ever eat pork, Ikey? 

Ikey. I'm ashamed to tell you, Air. Jenkins. 

Jenkins. I don't blame you, Ikey. Well, you take a 
hog and put him into a vat. 

Ikey. A vat? Vat is a vat? 

Jenkins. A vat is a big what-d'ye-call-'em. You know 
— a — a vat. 

Ikey. Sure, I know. It is a vat. 

Jenkins. Of course it be. Well, you take the hog, put 
him in the vat and boil him. 

Ikey. Vat a shame to boil de hog when you can roast 
him. 

Jenkins. Right you are, by sassafras ! You boil him 
until yeou kaint see nothin' in the vat. 

Ikey (meditatively). Nodding left? Yes — yes — ? 

Jenkins. Wall, what you see then is the gizzard. 
(Struts about laughingly). Score one for Jeb Jenkins, by 
chowder ! 

Ikey (follozving Jenkins' movements) . Dere's noddings 
left und dat is de gizzard. I don't see noddings except me 
here, so you must be a gizzard. 

Jenkins. I wonder where Desmond is ? He should have 
been here long ago. 

Ikey. Jamieso'n said Torrance was here in dis ]^lace. 
If I see him, I shoot. 

Jenkins.. By sassafras ! I won't take no chances on be- 
ing shot by him, 'cause I don't want to make Mary Ann a 
widder afore she's married. Guess I'll go out and have a 
look for Desmond down the road. (Goes to C. D.) 

Ikey. I take a look, too. (He goes^ to C. D., opens it 
and looks out.) Moses! someone is caming. 

Jenkins (looking off at C. D.). Who is it. Ikey? 



46 THE TOWN MARSHAL. 

Ikey. It sure is Torrance. I see him mit Jamieson two- 
weeks ago. If he see us he fill us full of paper holes. 

Jenkins. He may be full of fight. All them fellers who 
do crooked work like him love to fight better'n to eat. We'll 
hev to hide and make a rush for it when the opportunity 
offers. {Both come down C. and look about.) 

Ikey. Sure, if he only hits me in the gizzard, I don't 
care. 

Jenkins {sees screen). Here we be. Git behind this 
screen and don't open your jaw or I'll ram my gun down 
yer throat, be gosh! {Both hide behind screen L.) 

Enter Torrance C. D. He stops at door und listens zvith 
a look of terror in his face. Shuts door carefully after him. 

Torrance {as he listens). I'm sure there are pursuers 
on my trail. I saw tracks in the sand near this door and there 
were several horsemen on the prairie as I rode up. I am a 
hunted man and if need be I shall know how to die. {Goes 
to table ^ sees lighted candle and starts.) Someone must 
have been here, for the candle is burning. Who can it be? 
{Looks about.) It is Jamieson whom I can thank for heap- 
ing this trouble upon me. Curse him ! But for him I should 
not now be hunted like a wild beast, a prey to ceaseless fear. 

Ikey {in subdued voice behind screen). Ouch! 

Torrance {starts). What was that? {Drazvs revolver 
and stands C. in listening attitude.) Pshaw! I am fright- 
ened at shadows and start at every sound. I must have food 
and then I'm off for the west. {Exit R. U. E.) 

Jenkins {looks behind screen from upper end). He's 
gone, by gravy ! 

Ikey {looking out from behind other end of screen). I be 
gone soon, too. {Goes to C. D.) Good-bye, Jenkins. 

Jenkins {going toward C. D.). Where be yeou goln', 
Ikey? 

Ikey. To look for dem gizzards. {Exit C. D.) 

Jenkins. Wall, I don't want nothin' to do with a des- 
perate character like Torrance, so I'll vamoose too. {Exit 
C. D.) 



THE TOWN MARSHAL. 47 

Enter Torrance R. U. E. He stands at door and listens. 
Torrance. I thought I heard voices, but I must have 
been mistaken. There is no one here. {Goes to CD.) I 
have httle time to lose if I would hope to make good my 
escape. I felt it all along that Jamieson would betray me 
to Hartley if that were necessary to aid his plans. {Opens 
door and looks off, then closes it again.) There are men at 
the stable and they are coming this way. I must hide and 
when the opportunity presents itself, make a dash for lib- 
erty. {Goes to R. U. E.) Come what may, I shall never 
submit to arrest. {Exit R. U. E.) 

Enter Jamieson a;/ J Hartley^ C. D 

Hartley {as he comes dozvn G.). There is no one here. 
You must have been mistaken in your man Torrance — this 
impostor. 

Jamieson {relighting candle on table). He was to have 
met me here. That's all I know, J\Ir Hartley. 

Hartley. Strange that Desmond is not here. He was 
en route before we left town. 

Jamieson. He may never come. I do not trust that 
man. 

Hartley {laughingly) . I'm sure he despises you, Jamie- 
son. What was your purpose in having me drag Laura to 
this God forsaken spot? 

Jamieson. To prove to you both that Desmond is not 
the man Laura thinks him to be and to prevent her from 
forming an affection for a man who is unworthy of her. 

Hartley. You are damnably solicitous about my daugh- 
ter's welfare, Jamieson. I wish you had been as solicitous 
in my land affair and saved me all this annoyance of deal- 
ing with an impostor. 

Jamieson. I am interested in your daughter's welfare 
because — because I love her. 

Hartley. You love her ! 

Jamieson. With all my soul ! 

Hartley. Have you told her of your love? 

Jamieson. I have. She replied that she would wed no 
man without your consent. 



48 THE TOWN MARSHAL. 

Hartley. She's a dutiful daughter. And you now ask 
my leave to woo her? 

Jamieson. Grant me this and I shall know how to reach 
Laura's heart. 

Hartley. Until you clear yourself of suspicion cast 
upon you by Clancy in the matter of the rifling of my safe, 
I withhold my consent. 

Jamieson. That is a tale concocted by Desmond to fur- 
ther his own schemes. Let Torrance face him and my inno- 
cence will be established. 

Hartley (going to C. D.). I'll have to rejoin Laura 
now, or she'll be restless. (Looks off.) There is Desmond 
now. He must not know that Laura and I followed him. 
(Exit CD.) 

Jamieson (going to R. U. E.). There is someone in this 
room. It must be Torrance. Well, I hope his meeting with 
Desmond may be a joyful one. (Exit CD.) 

Enter TorRx\nce R. U. E. He goes to C. D. and looks off. 

Torrance. Escape is cut off now. I am cornered like a 
rat. (Closes door and goes to table.) Jamieson loves Laura 
Hartley ! No, a scoundrel like him cannot love truly. 
(Staggers and falls into chair at R. of table). Another 
attack! The prison physician warned me that apoplexy 
would carry me off some day. Would it had come now and 
I know misery no more ! I am overcome by a strange leth- 
argy. The thought of liberty no longer stirs me. I care- 
not whether I live or die ! (He falls weeping upon table ^ his 
head hidden in his arms.) 

Enter Desmond C. D. He carries revolver in his right 
hand. He closes door silently and then comes down L., 
looking cautiously about. 

Desmond (aside, L. C). Jenkins and Ikey both assert 
they saw Torrance, so he must be here. (Turns to table and 
sees Torrance. He steps softly to table and points revolver 
at Torrance.) Hands up! 

Torrance (makes no move). 

Desmond (sternly). Hands up, I say! 



THE TOWN MARSHAL. 49 

Torrance (starts, then raises his head). That voice! 
(To Desmond.) Who are you? 

Desmond (stepping back tozcards C, his revolver still 
pointed at Torrance.) Yoii are my prisoner, Torrance. 
Up with your hands, or I fire ! 

Torrance (rises, then comes forzvard zvith outstretched 
arms). My son ! 

Desmond (bezvildered). Your son! (Looks into Tor- 
rance's face.) Father! (They fall into each other's arms.) 

Torrance (tearfully, after a pause). My poor boy! To 
think we should meet thus. 

Desmond (leading Torrance to table). It is inconceiv- 
able. Let me think. Be seated, father. 

Torrance (sitting R. at table). Harold — 

Desmond (interrupting). Silence, father! Not a word 
until I bid you speak. So you — you are Torrance, alias 
Bothman — my God ! 

Torrance (in anguish). You know the truth and yet you 
do not revile me ! 

Desmond. Revile you? Impossible! 

Torrance. Heaven is merciful indeed ! 

Desmond. My mind is clearer now, father. You are a 
fugitive from justice. I, your son, the officer of the law 
with a warrant for your arrest on a charge of impersonating 
another in furtherance of a fraudulent transaction. 

Torrance. It is inexorable fate, my boy. 

Desmond. I wonder that I do not go mad ! (Rises and 
zvalks R. and L. in agony.) What have I done that I should 
have fallen victim to such maddening circumstances? 

Torrance. Have courage, Harold — 

Desmond (interrupting zvith cynical laugh as he returns 
to table). You say, have courage! Why not pluck this arm 
from my body and say, "Be comforted, my boy, the mem- 
ber is useless." Why not rob me of my soul and assure me 
that I am the nobler without that spark of divinity? Have 
courage! And my heart is bursting! (Falls zveeping at L. 
of table.) 

Torrance (despairingly). What may I do to ease your 



50 THE TOWN MARSHAL. 

agony, Harold? Your tears sear my heart like molten 
metal ! 

Desmond (recovering himself with an effort). Pardon 
me, father. Filial love has made a child of me, and I 
thought myself a man. I forgot myself, but Richard is him- 
self again. Come, tell me all and I shall know how to act. 
Conceal nothing from me, for I am your son and you can 
trust me implicitly. How came you to meet this human 
reptile, Jamiesof!? 

Torrance. Six months ago, soon after my release from 
prison. I had left that institution, crushed, hopeless, des- 
pairing, like a man in a dream, shrinking from all I met 
as some unclean monster, feeling in my heart that all could 
see upon my brow the brand of my imperishable shame — 
the damning proof that I was an ex-convict! (Groans in 
agony.) 

Desmond. Poor father ! 

Torrance (after a pause). I resolved to face the world 
bravely, but fearing m.y name — our name — would involve 
me in trouble with the police, I assumed that of Torrance 
and came West, hoping to find you and start life anew. . 

Desmond. You were to serve five years, but you actu- 
ally spent only four years in prison. Am I right? 

Torrance. I was a model prisoner and my good be- 
havior earned me tim.e credits which shortened my term 
materially. I did not write to you on my release, because I 
purposed to surprise you. 

Desmond. But you did not have my address? 

Torrance. No, but I knew that inquiries at Mitchell 
would lead to information as to your whereabouts. Unfor- 
tunately I did not get to Mitchell and I was wholly igno- 
rant that you were Town Marshal — 

Desmond (interrupting) . A fatal oversight on your part, 
father. Proceed. 

Torrance. I went to South Dakota and secured employ- 
ment in a stenographer's' ofiice. I there met Jamieson one 
day. He had a divorce suit in court and he employed me to 
copy certain docurnents, the nature of which convinced me 



THE TOWN MARSHAL. 51 

that he was not only an unprincipled attorney at law, but 
a scoundrel at heart. 

Desmond. You were not mistaken, father. 

Torrance. One day, by some mischance, I dropped a 
package of papers including the newsaper account of my 
trial and conviction, your letter informing me that you had 
assumed your mother's name and other documents which 
hinted at, if they did not reveal my life's secret. When I 
discovered my loss I returned in haste to my desk and 
found the package on the floor, apparently undisturbed. 

Desmond (interested). Yes — yes! 

Torrance. I then remembered I met Jamieson at the 
door of the office, but was not aware he had found the pack- 
age, learned my secret and then replaced it where it had 
fallen, until it was too late. 

Desmond. The rascal ! 

Torrance. Knowing my secret, Jamieson proceeded to 
utilize it to his own advantage. He sent for me a month 
ago and informed me that he was interested in a land deal 
out west with Mr. Hartley and that he required my aid 
to render it a success. 

Desmond. And so your trouble began. 

Torrance. I was to go to a clerk in Hartley's employ, 
a man named Clancy, and secure certain documents which 
Clancy was to give me. I was not aware until later that 
these documents were stolen by Clancy, and that by impli- 
cating me in the crime Jamieson was assured of my silence 
and aid in the furtherance of his iniquitous plot to defraud 
Mr. Hartley out of his land by trickery. 

Desmond. Yes, proceed, father. 

Torrance. Finding myself involved in the theft of the 
papers, I fell an easy victim to Jamieson. ■ He forced me to 
represent myself as Bothman under penalty of exposure, 
and as such I was introduced to Mr. Hartley two weeks 
ago. I paid Mr. Hartley $10,000, which was supplied by 
Jamieson, and when I produced the agreement which I 
claimed had been sent me to New York several months 
previously, Mr. Hartley reluctantly acknowledged receipt 
of the money. Jamieson took the agreement and is now 



52 THE TOWN. MARSHAL. 

negotiating the sale of it to an eastern syndicate at an enor- 
mous profit to himself. 

Desmond. What were you to get for your services? 

Torrance. Five thousand dollars and absolute secrecy 
as to my career — my shame ! 

Desmond. And you believed in that man Jamieson? 
■Poor father ! 

Torrance (zvildly). From the day I learned Jamieson had 
fathomed my secret, I was dazed — mad ! I pictured to myself 
day and night what exposure meant to me — ruin irretriev- 
able ! The prospect was terrifying to me and like a drown- 
ing man who grasps at straws to save himself, I trusted to 
Jamieson's promises and I sank deeper into the mire ! Then 
I thought of you and the effect my exposure would have 
upon 3^our career should our relationship be revealed. What 
else could I do? 

Desmond. I now realize what Jamieson meant when he 
said that once you and I met, the truth would be revealed. 
It has been revealed, and how crushingly ! But what shall I 
do now? (Rising and standing C. in despair.) 

Torrance (rising and going to Desmond C.) There is 
but one thing for you to do. Serve your warrant — arrest 
me ! 

Desmond (in agony). No, no! 

Torrance (holding out his hands clasped) See, my hands 
await your manacles ! I am your prisoner ! 

Desmond. I cannot — I cannot ! 

Torrance. It is your sworn duty, Harold. Why do you 
hesitate ? 

Desmoi^d. Arrest you ? Impossible ! 

Torrance. It must be done, my son. (Goes to table 
and picking up revolver, places muzzle to his temple.) Re- 
fuse to do your duty, Harold, and I blow out my brains ! 

Desmond (springing upon Torrance and taking revolver 
from him). You are mad! 

Torrance. I urge you to do your duty regardless of the 
consequences to me. 

Desmond (after a pause). Yes, father, I shall do my 
duty. 



THE TOWN MARSHAL. 53 

Torrance (joyfully). Spoken like my own brave son! 

Desmond. It lies not in arresting you, but saving you ! 

Torrance. Saving me? Impossible! 

Desmond {removing his coat and turning upon Tor- 
rance). Put on this coat, father. Nay, do not seek to 
frustrate me, but obey ! {Puts coat on Torrance after he 
has removed his ozvn.) Now, here are my hat and gloves. 
Put them on and speedily. 

Torrance {as he puts on hat and gloves). Is it thus you 
do your duty, Harold? 

Desmond {earnestly). I know no duty more imperative 
than that imposed upon me by filial love ! It overrides all 
human law, laughs at the conventions of society and its 
complex machinery of government. I would dishonor the 
stainless memory of my angel mother were I to do aught 
else than I am doing now ! 

Torrance. Noble boy ! 

Desmond {thrusting Torrance tozcard C. D.). Away 
to my room in town and await me there ! Hasten ! There 
is no time to be lost if you would hope to escape this fiend. 
Jamieson. You'll find my horse hitched by the door. Away ! 

Torrance. Farewell, Harold. 

Desmond {shaking Torrance's hand). Farewell, father. 
{Exit Torrance C. D. Desmond pauses at door in listen- 
ing attitude, then turns dozvn C.) What shall I say when 
they face me and demand an explanation? I must think of 
some plan. I hear footsteps approaching. I dare not face 
them now. {Goes to R. U. E.) I'll hide in this room and 
recall my scattered wits ! {Exit R. U. E.) 

Enter Jamieson_, Hartley, Laura, Jenkins and Ikey 
C. D. Jamieson and Hartley go dozvn C, Laura goes to 
R. of table R. C, Ikey and Jenkins go dozen L. 

Hartley. This is strange indeed. Why did Desmond 
leave without a word to us if he knew we were at the 
stable ? 

Jamieson {turning to table and picking up revolver). 
Torrance must have been here, for here is his revolver. 

Laura. How do you know it is Mr. Torrance's revolver ? 



54 THE TOWN MARSHAL. 

Jamieson (confused). I — I think so. 

Hartley. It appears to me that you know more about 
this impostor than you care to admit, Jamieson. 

Jamieson. I scarcely know him — 

Ikey. Vat a He, Jamieson! He vas a good friend of 
yours. 

Laura (to Ikey). If you know anything about this mys- 
tery, speak, Ikey. 

Ikey (crossing to table R. C). I hear Jamieson and 
Torrance talking at your house about Mr. Hartley's land 
and Jamieson tell Torrance he must do vat he say or he vill 
fix him good. 

Jamieson (threateningly). You lie, you dog! 

Ikey (pointing revolver at Jamieson). Don't come too 
close, Jamieson, or I shoot you in de place vere de turkey 
got de knife. 

Jamieson (laughing nervously). I shall not remain here 
to be insulted without cause. (Goes to C. D.) 

Jenkins (at C. D., holds off Jamieson with revolver). 
Yeou can't git out of here Jamieson, until we find out jist 
who it wuz that left this dugout a minute ago. 

Laura (to Jenkins). Do you doubt it was Mr. Des- 
mond who left this place? 

Jenkins. I seed gray hair under that hat, Miss Hartley, 
and if Desmond's got gray hair, I'm a lunatic, by gosh ! 

Laura. If that be so, then Mr. Desmond must be here. 

Hartley. He is not here. We had better return home, 
Laura. 

Laura. I shall not leave this place until I learn the 
truth. 

Enter Desmond R. U. E. He stands at door unobserved 
and listens. 

Jamieson. The truth is plain. Desmond has deserted the 
field. He is a traitor to his oath of office. 

Laura (at C). I am ready to stake my life upon this 
one thing — Harold Desmond is no traitor ! 

Jamieson (sarcastically). He has a noble champion in 



THE TOWN MARSHAL. 55 

you, Miss Hartley. One might almost believe you loved 
him. 

Hartley. You are going too far, Jamieson ! 

Laura. Let him speak, father. It is for me to answer 
him and I glory in the opportunity of doing so. {To Jamie- 
son.) I do love Desmond with all my heart! That you have 
basely maligned him to serve your own ignoble ends, I am 
firmly convinced. I shall believe him false only when he 
himself proves it. 

Jamieson {turns up R., sees Desmond, starts mid turns 
to others). Then let him speak for himself! 

Desmond {coming dozvn C). Aye, he shall speak! 

All {amazed). Desmond! 

Desmond. I owe you an apology, my friends. 

Laura {agitated). Apology! 

Desmond {lightly). Aye, for making you the sport of a 
farcical proceeding. 

Laura. I begin to understand. Who was that man who 
left here awhile ago wearing your hat and coat ? Speak ! 

Desmond {laughingly). Torrance, alias Bothman ! 

Laura. Torrance ! And you permitted him to escape ? 

Desmond. I said you should know the truth and you 
shall. {Pauses.) 

Laura. Go on — go on ! 

Desmond. This unfortunate man Torrance was merely 
the tool of another who hoped to profit by his silent part- 
nership with this impostor who represented himself as Both- 
man. 

Hartley. Name him, Desmond ; name him ! 

Jamieson. Let him name the man! 

Desmond. It is I — I ! 

All {astonished). You! 

Jenkins {aside to Desmond at C). By chowder! Yeou 
kaint make me believe it, Desmond. 

Desmond {aside as he z^'atches Laura). Silence! 

Laura {staggering C). My heart is breaking! {She 
faints in Desmond's arms up C. Hartley stands R. of 



56 THE TOWN MARSHAL. 

fable R. C, Ikey stands L. C, Jamieson stands up C, 
laughing cynically. Desmond stands looking down upon 
Laura C. with Jenkins to his left at — ) 

CURTAIN. 



Act IV. 

Scene: Same as Act L A month later. 

At rise enter Jenkins and Lucy L. U. E. 

Jenkins (sitting on steps of veranda R.). Yeou say Mary 
Ann haint got back from the store yit, Lucy? 

Lucy. If she has she must have come in a balloon. 

Jenkins. Well, there ben't no balloons in South Da- 
koty as I knows on, so she haint here, be gosh ! Did she 
ever speak of me when yeou were about, Lucy? 

Lucy (going to door of house R.). Well, 1 should say 
she did! 

Jenkins (proudly). She couldn't help talkin' of me, by 
beeswax ! What did she say ? 

Lucy. She said you were all right — (pauses). 

Jenkins. She did, eh? What else? 

Lucy. Even if you were a dried up old mummy. 

Jenkins By gravy ! She called me a dried up old mummy, 
did she? 

Lucy (laughingly). Naw, I take it back. She is awful 
sweet on you. Uncle Jeb. 

Jenkins. Couldn't do anything else, by ginger! How 
be Miss Laura today? 

Lucy. She aint been herself since the day she went to 
Pine Valley a month ago. Must have been something aw- 
ful happened to shake her up so. 

Jenkins. Gosh all pumpkins ! It shook mie, too. Yeou 
kaint make me believe Desmond spoke the truth when he 
said he was the man behind the gun in that matter of the 



THE TOWN MARSHAL. 57 

land deal out West. The truth will come out jest like the 
measles, when Desmond gits back, by gum ! 

Lucy. Haven't you heard from him since he left? 

Jenkins. Not a word, be gosh! Dropped plumb out 
of sight like widder Brown's goat when he fell into my 
well. 

Lucy. Well, I'll bet all I'm worth that Desmond is 
O. K. and stands ace high. (Exits into house R.). 

Enter Jamieson L. U. E. 

Jenkins. Yeou be right about Desmond, my gal. {Sees 
Jamieson.) Hello, Jamieson! Heered from Desmond 
lately ? 

Jamieson {at C). No, nor am I likely to. He has de- 
camped and we doubtless will never hear from him again. 

Jenkins. I w^ouldn't bet all I had on that if I wuz yeou, 
Jamieson. You might go broke, by gravy ! 

Jamieson (laughingly). He dare not show his face again 
after his confession in the dugout. It would condemn him 
utterly. 

Jenkins. I wouldn't bet a nickel on your judgment, 
Jamieson. I took your tip in a boss trade two months ago 
and I got stung to the tune of fifty dollars. 

Jamieson. We were both deceived in that horse, Jen- 
kins. 

Jenkins. I was, by gravy! But I don't know about 
yeou. It was kinder strange yeou should come out the next 
day in a fine suit of store clothes, wasn't it? 

Jamieson. You don't mean to insinuate — 

Jenkins, (interrupting). Nope. A nod and a wink are 
the same to a blind mule ; so take your choice. I'm goin' 
to the barn and have a look at Hartley's big Percheron 
horse. Come along Jamieson ; 'twill do yeou good to look 
at something real honest once in awhile. (Esit R. U. E.) 

Jamieson (goi}ig to veranda R.). Affairs are shaping 
themselves well now that Desmond is in disgrace and a 
fugitive, most likely. Where can he have gone and what is 
he doing? Well, no matter. When Laura is my wife I shall 
know how to act, come what may. (Looks off, then turns 



58 THE TOWN MARSHAL. 

C) She is coming now. I shall press the issue to the finish 
today. If she refuses me, I shall make her suffer. 

Enter Laura R. She stands on veranda^ looking pale and ill. 

Jamieson (to Laura). Miss Hartley! 

Laura (starts). You here again! 

Jamieson (at C). And why should I not be? You 
know I love you — 

Laura (interrupting as she comes down from veranda 
and sits in rustic chair C). That subject again! How often 
have I told you that it is distasteful to me. 

Jamieson (gayly). I cannot help reiterating my avowal, 
for it comes from an honest heart. Why treat me with 
disdain? I am an honorable man. 

Laura (sighingly). I would that I could believe you, 
Mr. Jamieson. 

Jamieson. You might were not your mental vision ob- 
scured by thoughts of this blackleg, Desmond — 

Laura. Stop ! How dare you insult a man who by rea- 
son of his absence is unable to defend himself? Only cow- 
ards speak ill of the absent. 

Jamieson. I am no coward, Laura, yet I dare say any- 
thing to win the heart of the woman I adore. 

Laura. You love me ! Why persecute me with your 
attentions when I have told you time and again that I do 
not — never can^ love you? 

Jamieson. Once you are my wife I shall teach you 
how to love me. 

Laura (rising in disgust). Leave me, sir! Once for all, 
I tell you I shall never be your wife. (Goes down C.) 

Jamieson (threateningly). I trust you shall not force 
me to use harsh means to secure my ends ? 

Laura (starts). Harsh means! What do you mean? 

Jamieson. You still think of this man Desmond as a 
martyr, I see. 

Lx\URA. I do. 

Jamieson. And in the face of his confession of shame 
at the dugout, you still deem him a man of honor? If so, 
why did he escape — where is he now? 



THE TOWN MARSHAL. 59 

Laura (in anguish). I do not know. 

Jamieson. I know, Miss Hartley. 

Laura. You ? 

Jamieson. He dares not face you again, because this 
man Torrance is an ex-convict and Desmond's father ! 

Laura (dazed). His father! I see it all now — light has 
dawned iipon m.y soul! 

Jamieson (sneeringly). IndQedl 

Laura (ecstatically). I see him as he stood at the table 
in the dugout, his face crimsoned with blushes, his voice 
trembling with passion and tears, a wandering look in his 
eyes ! He assumed his father's guilt, shouldered a crime 
with which he had nothing to do. Yes, it must be so ! It 
all comes to me like the details of some dreadful dream ! 
Sent to arrest a. man of whose identity he was ignorant, he 
recognizes in that man his own father. There was but one 
course to pursue — to save his father at the sacrifice of his 
own good name. He sacrificed himself for his father ! Oh, 
Harold ! That I should have doubted you ! Forgive me, 
forgive me! (Sinks sobbiiig into rustic seat C.) 

Jamieson (standing over her). You have a romantic im- 
agination, Laura. Let u| be practical. You must become 
my wife or your father is a ruined man. 

Laura. What new torture are you devising for me? 
How shall my father be ruined ? 

Jamieson. I have discovered a fatal flaw in his deed to 
the land across the IMissouri. Refuse to become my wife 
and I make this fact known to all the world. 

Laura (loathingly). Now I know you to be the monster 
that you are ! 

Jamieson (laughingly). Your obstinacy forces me to 
resort to this measure, and, believe me, I regret it as much 
as you do. 

Laura. Leave me now ! Your hateful presence sickens 
me. I pray heaven I may never see you again! (Turns 
from him and turns R.) 

Jamieson (taking her hand). You shall not leave with- 
out answering me ! 



60 THE TOWN MARSHAL. 

Enter Jenkins^ R. U. E. He conies dozvn R. slowly and 
observes others. 

Laura (struggling to release herself). You will force 
me to call for help — 

Jenkins (stepping between them and throwing Jamieson 
back ) . I guess not, by gravy ! You may go to the house now, 
Miss Laura. I'll attend to this wolf, by hek ! 

Jamieson (angrily). Step out of my path, you ignorant 
rube! 

Jenkins (squaring off before Jamieson). By sassafras! 
I chewed Bill Smith's ear off fur calling me that once ! Yeou 
be too common fur that, so I'll jist take a yank at your nose ! 
(He takes Jamieson's nose and tugs at it.) 

Jamieson (after he is released by Jenkins). It is well 
for you that there is a lady present. 

Laura (to Jenkins). He dare not speak to me again 
after what has happened. (She exits into house R.) 

Jamieson. You and Miss Hartley enjoy a temporary tri- 
umph, Jenkins. My turn will come, and soon, too. 

Enter Mary^ L. U. E., foUozued by Ikey, who is carrying 
a number of bundles in clumsy fashion. Mary zvears a 
large, gaudy hat and blue parasol^ presenting a youthful 
appearance, 

Jenkins (a2 he follows Jamieson up L.). That's what 
the turkey gobbler said when he saw the Thanksgiving 
proclamation upon the fence corner. Look out for the dogs, 
they hate skunk almighty bad ! 

Jamieson. My time will come, never fear. (Exit L. U, 
E., after casting a disdainful glance at Mary and Ikey as 
he passes them.) 

Mary. That man here? If he dares to show his ugly 
face here agaiUj I'll send for the police. 

Jenkins. Leave him to me, Mary Ann. I jist pulled his 
beak awhile ago and I'll do it ag'in if he gives me the 
chance. 

Mary. Did you do that, Jeb Jenkins? Well, you're a 
man after my own heart! 



THE TOWN MARSHAL. 61 

Jenkins. If I didn't think so, you wouldn't stand no 
chance of becoming Mrs. Jeb Jenkins No. 3 tomorrow. {To 
Ikey.) What be in them bundles, Ikey? 

Mary. They are mine, Jeb. {To Ikey.) Are you sure 
you have dropped none of them on your way home ? 

Ikey {at C). I'm so tired I don't know noddings no 
more. 

Enter Lucy from house R. She comes C. to Ikey. 

Mary. They are all here, thank goodness. {To Lucy.) 
Help Levinsky, Lucy, ^ith those bundles. Be careful, now. 

Lucy {taking bundles from Ikey). Sure, his back must 
be broke with that load. How are you, Ikey? 

Ikey {dolefully). I aint sure how I is, Lucy. I tink I 
am still alife. 

]\Iary {to Lucy, protestingly). Be careful how you han- 
dle those boxes, Lucy. They're not filled with sawdust. 
There's my trousseau, my new hat, my shoes, lingerie, every- 
thing. 

Jenkins. I reckon Ikey thought you had bought out the 
hull Golden Rule store. 

Lucy. Wait till you see the bill, Uncle Jeb. 

Jenkins. I hedn't thought of that, by gravy ! Matrimony 
comes high, but men like Jeb Jenkins never shirk their re- 
sponsibilities to society on that account. 

Mary. We'll discuss that matter after we're married, 
Jeb Jenkins. {To Lucy and Ikey.) Now take those 
bundles to the house, and see you don't drop any of them. 

Lucy. All right. Aunt Mary. They're, safe with me. 
{She goes to veranda and in going up the steps stumbles and 
falls sprawling upon the boxes, crushing tivo of them so as 
to expose their contents. ^ 

Mary {shrieks). There, I knew you would do it, you 
clumsy girl. {Picks up lingerie and conceals it behind her 
zchen Jenkins looks at her.) 

Jenkins. What be them things ycou be hidin' behind 
yeou, M'dvy Ann? 

Mary {exasperated). Lingerie, you ninny! 



62 THE TOWN MARSHAL. 

Jenkins. That's the first time you ever cussed me, Mary 
Ann. New sassiety cuss work, I reckon. 

Mary (running to door R.). Hurry with those things, 
Lucy, or I'll skin you alive! (Exit into door of hous'e R.) 

Lucy (picking up boxes hastily and throwing them into 
door after Mary.) All right. Aunt Mary. See you later, 
Ikey. (Exit into house R.) 

Jenkins (turning C). He! He! Lingerie! Ef that 
wan't a night shirt Mary Ann wus hidin,' then I'm as nutty 
as widder Jones' new farm hand, who skipped out of the 
lunatick asylum, be gosh! (To Ikey.) Any news of Des- 
mond yet, Ikey? 

Ikey (in a zvhisper). Don't tole nobody — Desmond yust 
come back to town by de train dis morning early. 

Jenkins (delighted). Desmond back! Did yeou talk to 
him? 

Ikey. Sure. Him und me is polite. He say to me, how 
do, Ikey, und I say to him, how do, Desmond. Dat's all. 

Jenkins. Yeou be both a couple of mutts ! Didn't he 
mention Miss Hartley? 

Ikey. Sure. He write a note und gif it to me. I got it 
here. (Shows Jenkins a letter.) It is for Miss Hartley. 

Jenkins. So it be, by ginger! Where is he now? 

Ikey. He say he vill come out here soon and den I meet 
Aunt Mary und she make a pack horse mit me. 

Enter Laura, from, house R. She stands on veranda and 
watches Jenkins. 

Jenkins (dancing about). He's back hum, and there will 
be somethin' doin' right smart, I reckon ! By sassafras ! I 
knowed Desmond was all wool and a yard wide! 

Laura (to Jenkins). What has happened, Uncle Jeb? 
(Comes down to Jenkins C.) You appear to be excited. 

Jenkins. He ! He ! Not excited, but feelin' good. (In 
zvhisper to Laura.) Desmond's back hum, be gosh! 

Laura (starts). Desmond back? Do you mean it, Uncle 
Jeb? 

Jenkins. I wouldn't josh yeou fur a house and lot and 
Mary Ann thrown in, Miss Laura. He's back, by ginger I 



THE TOWN MARSHAL. 63 

Laura (staggers C). Where is he? 

Jenkins. He sent a letter to you by Ikey. (To Ikey.) 
Don't stand there hke the statue on the county building, 
Ikey, but rush that letter here ! 

Ikey. Sure, Uncle Jeb. Here it is. (Gives letter to 
Laura.) 

Laura (taking letter). Thank you, Ikey. (Opens let- 
ter C.) 

Jenkins (going up C. with Ikey.) Yeou stand on guard 
fur Desmond. If she sees him too sudden like, it might snap 
something in her pretty head. 

Ikey. Sure. Before I do dat, I wants to ask you some 
questions. 

Jenkins. Step lively, Ikey. What is it? 

Ikey. How many schwallows — 

Jenkins (interrupting). If yeou tries that on me ag'n 
I'll sculp yeou ! 

Ikey. Dis is anoder question. How many schwallows 
in a barrel of cider six feet high? 

Jenkins (rushes Ikey to L. U. E.). I aint answerin' 
darned fool questions now ! Stand thar till yeou see Des- 
mond, then give us the word. (He conies down C. and 
zvatches Laura.) 

Laura (reading letter). Miss Hartley — I have news of 
importance to you, and if you consent to see me I shall not 
only justify myself, but expose a villiain who would have 
victimized both your father and yourself. I shall follow 
the bearer of this to your home. Yours devotedly, Harold 
Desmond Matthews (Folds up letter and hides it in her 
bosom.) So his name is Matthews ! The truth is revealed 
at last. My heart tells me I shall soon hear joyful tidings. 

Ikey (coining dozvn C. to Laura). Desmond is coming! 

Laura. Desmond coming? I dare not face him now! 
He would read too easily the thoughts that have agitated 
me all these dreary weeks. (Gay/.v ^o Jenkins.) Tell him I 
shall be glad to see him, should he inquire after me. (Goes 
to house.) I'll return in a moment. (Exit into house R.) 

Jenkins (looking after her). Inquire fur yeou? If he 



64 THE TOWN MARSHAL. 

don't, I'll run him through my new threshing machine. 
Guess I'll git out for awhile. Too many cooks spoil the 
broth. (ExitR.U.E.) 

Ikey (going to R. U. E., calling off after Jenkins). I 
vants to ask you dot questions again, Jenkins. How many 
schwallows — {Exit R. U. E. running.) 

Enter Desmond, in Une walking suit, L. U. E. He comes 
down C. and looks about cautiously. 

Desmond. Will Laura consent to see me? She cannot 
refuse the meeting I pray for. She said she loved me, but 
after my avowal of guilt at the dugout, this sentiment may 
have changed to hate. (Sighs and turns up R.) When I 
tell her all, perhaps she will relent and her heart will re- 
spond to my own. {Looks off R. U. E., starts.) By all the 
gods ! There's Jamieson, and with Hartley, too ! What can 
that man want here, unless it be — no, no, Laura despises 
him as heartily as I do ! I'll hide myself in this shrubbery 
and learn what I can of this rascal's plans. {Hides in shrub- 
bery up L., and watches.) 

Enter Jamieson and Hartley, R. U. E. As they come 
down C.J Desmond strolls down after them slowly. 

Hartley {angrily to Jamieson). I tell you once for all, 
Jamieson, I wash my hands of your affairs. Laura is her 
'own mistress, and will choose for herself. 

Jamieson. You refuse to ask her to consider my proposal 
of marriage? 

Hartley. Absolutely. 

Jamieson. Then I shall be compelled, against my will, 
to employ such measures as may force your compliance, Mr. 
Hartley. 

Hartley. I'm tired of your threats, Jamieson. 

Jamieson {takes document from his pocket and hMs it 
aloft). I have here the absolute proof of a flaw in the title 
to your land across the Missouri, and once this is known to 
the heirs of Michael Horton, from whom you bought it, the 
property is lost to you forever ! 

Hartley {alarmed). Flaw in my title? It cannot be. 



THE TOWN MARSHAL. 65 

Jamieson {waving document aloft). But I have the proof 
here ! Force Laura to wed me and I return you this docu- 
ment and promise silence forever ! 

Desmond (taking document from Jamieson and stepping 
betzveen him and Hartley). The very document I have been 
searching for, Jamieson ! 

Jamieson (starts back alarmed). Desmond! The devil ! 

Hartley {amazed). You here, Desmond! 

Desmond {scanning document). It would appear I ar- 
rived at the proper moment. 

Jamieson. Return that document to me, or I shall have 
you arrested ! 

Desmond. It belongs to Mr. Hartley, to whom I take 
pleasure in returning it. {Gives it to Hartley.) 

Hartley {surprised). Why, this is the original deed to 
my land, stolen with the agreement six weeks ago! How 
did you get hold of it, Jamieson ? 

Jamieson {aside, in terror). The net draws tighter! 
{To Hartley.) It was given me by Torrance, this man's 
father. 

Desmond. He convicts himself ! He denied that he knew 
Torrance prior to the day of the robbery. 

Hartley. So he did. And this is the man who would 
have forced me to exert my influence to aid his plan to wed 
Laura! Leave this place, you thief! 

Jamieson. You shall regret those words, Mr. Hartley. 
As for this man {turning to Desmond), he dare not produce 
Torrance. 

Enter Laura from house. She stands on veranda and 
listens. 

Desmond {sadly). I cannot, for — for Torrance is dead! 

All {surprised). Torrance dead ! 

Desmond. He died of apoplexy at Mitchell two weeks 
ago, but not before he had made a sworn affidavit charging 
you, Jamieson, with hatching the burglary of Mr. Hartley's 
office. 

Jamieson. No one will believe the sworn statement of 
an ex-convict, particularly after you had publicly acknowl- 
edged the crime. 



66 THE TOWN MARSHAL. 

Enter Jenkins and Ikey^ R. U. E. They stand and watch. 

Desmond. I did acknowledge the crime, but only to save 
time and protect my poor persecuted father. 

Laura {on veranda, aside). I knew it — I knew it! 

Hartley. Torrance your father! 

Desmond. Aye, my father, a victim of fatal circum- 
stances, which wrecked his life. He was a convict, though 
innocent, for I have here the dying statement of the man 
for whose crime he suffered more than four years' imprison- 
ment. (Shows document.) 

Jamieson {annoyed — laughingly) . All this does not ex- 
onerate you, Desmond. 

Desmond. I have something more of interest to you, 
Jamieson. {Takes another document from pocket.) Here 
is the sworn affidavit of Clancy, filed by me in the county 
court this morning. It charges the theft to you. 

Jamieson {startled). You lie! Clancy is not in South 
Dakota. 

Desmond. He is in the calaboose at this moment, Jamie- 
son, and ready to testify against you. 

Jamieson {turning upstage). I shall see into this — 

Desmond {restraining him). Don't be in a hurry, Jamie- 
son. I have more news for you. Your syndicate has de- 
clined to buy Mr. Hartley's land, and he is requested to re- 
turn the $10,000 forfeit advanced by them through you, in 
lieu of which this agreement is cancelled. {Takes another 
document from pocket and gives it to Hartley.) 

Jamieson {in a rage). What devilish work is this? 

Desmond. Rather hard to be exposed so unmercifully, 
eh, Jamieson? One thing more and I am done. I have 
learned much in the past four weeks, and not the least inter- 
esting of my discoveries is your wife and family, whom you 
abandoned in Nebraska three years ago. 

Jamieson. You lie ! 

Desmond. If you think so, go to the hotel, where she 
awaits my commands. 

Jamieson. You shall answer to me for these calumnies, 
Desmond. 



THE TOWN MARSHAL. 67 

Desmond. My name is not Desmond. I am Harold Des- 
mond Matthews, at your service. 

Jamieson (goi)ig to L. U. E.). You shall taste of my 
revenge, Matthev/s. {Exit L. U. E.) 

Hartley. Stop him ! Don't allow him to escape ! 

Desmond {laughingly). There is no danger that he will 
escape. I have four of my deputies on the lookout for him. 
See. {He leads Hartley up C. and they look off L. U. E.) 
They have him now. If he gets off with less than ten years 
in prison I don't know the law in South Dakota. 

Hartley {taking Desmond's hand). I owe you a debt 
of gratitude I shall never be able to discharge, Desmond — I 
beg your pardon, Mr. Matthews. 

Desmond. You owe me nothing, Mr. Hartley. It is I 
who owe you thanks for your faith in me. 

Hartley {in zvhispcr, as he points to Laura on veranda). 
I'll swear she never lost faith in you, my boy. 

Desmond. Thank God for your words, Mr. Hartley. 

Jenkins {taking Desmond's hand). Count me in on the 
congratulations, by gravy! I'm state committeeman from 
this district, and if yeou want to go to congress next year 
I'll send yeou there, by chowder ! 

Desmond {laughingly). I'm not looking for political 
honors. Uncle Jeb. 

Ikey (to Desmond). I vants to ask you a question, Mr. 
Desmond. 

Desmond. What is it, Ikey? 

Ikey. LIow many schwallows — 

Desmond {forces him up R.). I'll swallow you whole, if 
you dont stop your nonsense ! Get out, all of you ! {Exeunt 
Jenkins and Ikey, laughing, R. U. E. Hartley, zvho has 
been talking to Laura on the veranda, exits into house R. 
Desmond comes down C, while Laura comes slozvly to C.) 

Laura {aside, as she eyes Desmond). What will he say, 
and how shall I answer him? 

Desmond {at C. to Laura). Miss Hartley— Laura. 

Laura {agitated). Llarold. 

Desmond. You have heard all? 

Laura. Yes, all. 



68 THE TOWN MARSHAL. 

Desmond. And you do not revile me? You have not lost 
faith in me? 

Laura. Never for an instant, Harold. 

Desmond. And your faith will endure forever, Laura? 

Laura. Forever. 

Desmond (embracing her). My wife! 

Laura (in Desmond's arms). My husband! 

Desmond. In the days to come we will learn to forget the 
troubles that clouded our lives during the period that I was 
Town Marshal. (Both stand embraced until — ) 

CURTAIN. 



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For Love and Honor, 20 min.. 2 1 

Fudge and a Burglar, 15 min.. 5 
Fun in a Photograph Gallery, 

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Coon Creek Courtship, 15 min.. 1 1 
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Counterfeit Bills, 20 min 1 1 

Doings of a Dude, 20 min 2 1 

Dutch Cocktail, 20 min 2 

Five Minutes from Yell College, 

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For Reform, 20 min 4 

Fresh Timothy Hay, 20 min... 2 1 
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Her Hero, 20 min 1 1 

Hey, Rube! 15 min 1 

Home Run, 15 min 1 1 

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Little Red School House. 20 m. 4 

Love and Lather, 35 min 3 2 

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Mischievous Nigger, 25 min... 4 2 

Mistaken Miss, 20 min 1 1 

Mr. and Mrs. Fido, 20 min.... 1 1 
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One Sweetheart for Two, 20 m. 2 
Oshkosh Next Week, 20 min.. 4 

Oyster Stew, 10 min 2 

Pete Yansen's Gurl's Moder, 10 

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Pickles for Two, 15 min 2 

Pooh Bah of Peacetown, 35 min. 2 2 
Prof. Black's Funnygraph, 15 m. 6 

Recruiting Office, 15 min 2 

Sham Doctor, 10 min 4 2 

Si and I, 15 min 1 

Special Sale, 1 5 min 2 

Stage Struck Darky, 10 min... 2 1 
Sunny Son of Italy, 15 min... 1 

Time Table, 20 min 1 1 

Tramp and the Actress. 20 min. 1 1 
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